


Where We First Met

by Paraselene_Spear



Series: Meeting and Living [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 91,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22059337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paraselene_Spear/pseuds/Paraselene_Spear
Summary: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, the heir to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, begins his mission at Garreg Mach, the lone survivor set on righting the wrongs.Marianne von Edmund, representative of House Edmund, enlists at the Officer's Academy, the last remnant of a cursed line hoping to become more than she is.Two different souls meet, something they didn't expect to happen.Two different souls connect, something they didn't expect to feel.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Marianne von Edmund, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Marianne von Edmund
Series: Meeting and Living [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020958
Comments: 106
Kudos: 324





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue.

**_13th day of the Great Tree Moon, 1180_ **

The creaking carriage wheels continued to sound loudly, the noise blending with the clatter of metal boots and armor from the accompanying royal guard. Together, it created a dreary, if not relaxing symphony of sounds that reminded him of early mornings in the Fhirdiad training grounds. Their journey of several days was nearing its end, their destination within reach. The crown prince of Faerghus leaned back in his seat within the carriage and closed his eyes, letting the ambiance of the trip surround him for the last stretch.

…

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd remembers speaking with his father and friends years ago. His father, King Lambert, along with Duke Fraldarius and Margrave Gautier had paid Fhirdiad a visit to discuss political matters, but the relaxed nature of it all suggested it was more a visit of pleasure than business. The Duke and Margrave had brought their sons, Felix and Sylvain, as well, much to Dimitri’s joy. The three found themselves sitting and conversing in front of the fireplace of a living room, the king watching over them.

“I’ve learned a lot about swordplay since the last time we’ve fought, Dimitri,” his young friend Felix said, excitedly waving his arms. “Just you wait. One day, I’ll be even better than Glenn _and_ my father,” he proclaimed with a confident smirk on his face. Dimitri humored his friend’s confidence with a smile. As they have gotten older, Dimitri and Felix had devoted themselves more and more to their studies and training. Their other friend, Ingrid, had followed suit, inspired by the books that told of tales of yore.

The red-haired noble sitting next to Felix scoffed. “Better than Glenn? Please. How’re you going to get there when you still haven’t learned to ride a horse without getting scared?” The older Sylvain had wrapped an arm around his dark-haired companion, egging him on, before Felix wrestled out of his grasp, his face red.

“That was one time, Sylvain! I’m not scared anymore!” 

Dimitri decided to chime in. “If I recall, Rodrigue told me you refused to go near the stables for weeks after that incident. Are you confident in saying you’ve changed your tune now?”

Sylvain and Dimitri laughed at their friend’s expense, but he too joined in, the laughter being too contagious. The king himself let out a chuckle before speaking.

“Settle down, boys. Don’t want anyone hearing that the young Fraldarius has a fear of horses.” Felix graciously decided to let the king have the better of him that moment. “I’m glad that you’re all dedicating yourselves to your training. Faerghus’ future is certainly bright if our heirs followed your example.” 

Dimitri beamed at his father’s praise, and he moved to situate himself near him. “Do you truly believe that, Father?”

King Lambert laid a hand upon his son’s hair. “Of course. In fact, your energy and enthusiasm remind me of Rodrigue and I back in our Academy days. Eager to prove to each other and the world what we were capable of. It brings me back.” 

Felix propped himself up, diverting more attention to the king. “Academy? Do you mean Garreg Mach?”

“Yes. The Officer’s Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery. It’s where your father and I went to learn the ways of politics and warfare. It helped shape who we are today. In time, you three will also follow in our footsteps and attend as well, all in the hopes of bettering the future of Fódlan.”

The serious overtones were not lost on Dimitri and Felix, but the same could not be said for their other friend. Sylvain stretched his arms and leaned back against the foot of a chair.

“Academy, huh? I don’t know, Your Majesty. I’ve never been too fond of the book work to be honest.” Dimitri frowned at his older friend’s bluntness.

“Sylvain don’t say that! Going to the Officer’s Academy is a serious honor! You’d do well to make the most of the opportunity.”

The young man raised his arms in response to quell Dimitri. “Easy, I was just kidding. Of course I’m gonna go to the Academy. It’s not like my father will let me decide otherwise. Besides, there’s bound to be _interesting_ people to meet, don’t you think?”

“Sylvain…” Felix sighed and shook his head in disappointment. “What would Ingrid do if she heard you now?”

Genuine fear crossed the Gautier boy’s face before the king let out another hearty chuckle. “I understand where you’re coming from, Sylvain. It’s rare to ever truly enjoy burying yourself deep in texts, but it’s a necessary evil. But Dimitri, Felix,” the king suddenly called, “Sylvain is also right. The Academy isn’t just to become the strongest in the land. You’ll meet people from all walks of life there. Making connections and forging bonds with your companions is just as necessary as learning how to swing a blade. I pride myself in the people I’ve befriended and the lives I have saved, not the ones I have ended. You all would do well to remember that.” 

Dimitri let his father’s words sink into him, looking at the ruler in reverence of his wisdom. Dimitri knew that, in time, he would inherit his father’s mantle and be the future ruler of Faerghus. He wanted to be a king that would protect, that would live for his people.

He wanted to be a king that would save. 

To be the man that would be that king, Dimitri accepted he still had much to learn from his father.

“Still reminiscing on your glory days, Lambert? I thought you’ve accepted the old man you have become.” A smiling Rodrigue strode into the room followed closely behind by a young knight, his dark hair reminiscent of the Duke’s. King Lambert let out a laugh.

“ _My_ glory days, Rodrigue? I think you mean _ours_. Back in the Academy, a day’s worth of classes would hardly get you riled up, and now, you can’t even stand an hour discussing simple treaties!” The two experienced comrades laughed in their banter, Lambert rising to meet Rodrigue an offer a hug. The knight, meanwhile, settled himself next to Felix and the other boys.

“You know,” Glenn conspicuously whispered into Felix’s ear, “if you still have issues with the steeds, I can ask father about setting you up with a pegasus instead. How does that sound?”

Felix, face burning again, pounced on his older brother’s back, eliciting more laughter from Dimitri and Sylvain. 

Rodrigue turned towards his sons after conversing with the king. “Glenn, Felix, come say goodnight to His Majesty before we retire for the night.” Felix let out a whine. 

“Already? I still need to show Dimitri and Sylvain the new techniques I’ve learned from Glenn.”

Though pouting, Rodrigue hugged his son and guided him towards the exit. 

“Enough of that, you’ll have plenty of time tomorrow before we leave. And Sylvain, Margrave Gautier wanted to speak with you about something. He looked rather…displeased.” 

Sylvain winced and muttered something under his breath, which Dimitri deduced to be either a curse or a prayer. 

The four bid Dimitri and the king a goodnight and retreated to their quarters, leaving him alone with his father. Lambert had resettled onto one of the couches and heaved a content sigh. Dimitri climbed on and lay down next to his father, resting his head on his lap. The king took the opportunity to run a hand through his hair, comforting him. 

Despite the jovialness of the earlier conversation, the talk of him and his friends becoming future rulers of Faerghus had taken root within his mind. He did not believe himself to be incapable, but he feared he would be too unremarkable. Dimitri wanted to be more than those rulers of history that were simply footnotes, steppingstones to the ones that brought true change and happiness to the land. He wanted to be the name that inspired future generations. But the idea of becoming that name was a daunting thought. 

“Father,” Dimitri slowly managed to ask.

“Yes, Dimitri? What is it?”

“Am I really going to the Officer’s Academy? To learn to be king?”

Lambert let out a hum and ruffled his son’s head. “Of course. When you’re there, you’ll learn to be the best man you can possibly be as I once did. And, when the time comes, you’ll be all the more prepared to lead after me.”

The small prince trembled at the thought. He refrained from thinking of his future responsibilities because of this, the way it made him feel so small. “I want to be a good king, father. I want to be the best for our people. Can I be a good king like you?”

For the third time that night, his father chuckled, but behind this one was more thought and pensiveness. He slowly stroked Dimitri’s hair, formulating a suitable answer to quell his prince’s fears. “You have a caring heart, Dimitri.” He paused, and the prince turned to look up at him, eyeing him to continue. “When I was young, I thought being the strongest, the mightiest, the most triumphant man would make me a fitting king. But…I’ve learned that kindness can be sharper than any whetted steel. If you want to be a good ruler...become a good _man_ first. The rest will follow.”

Lambert observed his son joust with the answer given to him, wrestling with the ideas and concepts put before him. The prince looked up at him after a time. “Is being a good man truly enough?”

His father smiled. “As long as you remain yourself, you will be a good man. And, for me, that is enough, my dear son.”

Dimitri smiled and let his father’s kind words ease his mind, his kind hands relax his head. He closed his eyes and let his father caress his locks of hair. Sleep was quickly approaching, yet he heard his father’s voice one more time before it arrived.

“Rest, Dimitri. The future is far away. Whatever you do, my son, I know that you will make me proud.”

…

“Your Highness.” 

Dimitri opened his eyes, his daydream of the past quickly evaporating to mist. His friend sitting across him, Dedue, had called for his attention. “It seems we are nearly at our destination,” the young man said, pulling away the carriage cover. 

Dimitri took in the view of Garreg Mach Monastery, the legendary location of the Officer’s Academy. The buildings themselves seemed built into the mountainside. It created a breathtaking sight.

He continued to stare at the monastery, his mind still preoccupied with other things. His friend had taken notice.

“Your Highness,” Dedue said, “are you well?”

Dimitri turned to find his vassal observing him in worry. He looked back towards the monastery. “I am fine, Dedue. I am just…appreciating the sight, is all.”

The boy of Duscur didn’t seem too particularly convinced, but he abstained from pressing further. “Very well. I am here should you require anything.”

He let out a noise of acknowledgment. Dimitri wasn’t lying completely. He marveled at the sight of Garreg Mach, his new home for the year. He would learn so much more, become so much more, and reconnect with old friends. He was soon to be the house leader of the Blue Lion class and represent the future of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.

He looked upon Garreg Mach, the place where, after years of waiting, he could finally begin his life’s mission. 

His father’s voice echoed within his mind.

_“Whatever you do, my son, I know that you will make me proud.”_

His carriage had parked outside the main gate. He stepped out and deeply inhaled the fresh, new air, and he stretched his aching limbs. 

Despite the bustling of soldiers, guards, and the arrival of other students, he set his gaze firmly on the monastery walls, uncaring of the background prattle and noise.

_I will avenge you, father. You will all have your tribute._

_I will have it._

* * *

**_13th day of the Great Tree Moon, 1180_ **

She arrived early, the sun barely kissing the sky when her and her escort had unpacked all her necessities from her carriage. She packed lightly, not many belongings to her name that she cared for, and the monastery staff had assured her that her heavier, bulkier objects would make their way to her room. Everything had been a whirlwind since she had arrived, the many guards and staff greeting her, taking her things, and leaving her like they did with all the other arriving students. Unfortunately for her, she had no familiar faces to find comfort in, unlike the others. Students she didn’t recognize and never met had found camaraderie in acquaintances already made before arriving at the Academy. With just a bag of her more personal belongings, she quickly shuffled to find a quiet place to save her from the overwhelming presence made from the growing crowd, finding an abandoned bench under the shade of a tree. She sat there, the area only a few feet from the entrance the carriages moved into but obscure enough to not draw attention. She was alone again. With no one to see and nothing to do, she set down her bag, closed her eyes, and clasped her hands in prayer. 

…

Marianne von Edmund remembers walking into her father’s study weeks ago, Margrave Edmund requesting her presence. He was only her adoptive father, her brain forcefully reminded her. Her real parents have been gone for quite some time now. 

She stepped into the office, a quaint, tidy room that the Margrave deemed appropriate for himself. The man in question was meticulously reading over some files no doubt related to his work, setting them down when Marianne had made her presence known. 

“Ah, Marianne! There you are, come, sit.” Despite living with the man for three years now, she instinctively curled within herself, a habit she had tried to break around him as to not show ingratitude. “How are you, Marianne? Do you need anything to drink?”

“Uh- no, thank you. I- I am quite fine.” She hated that she still stumbled over her speech around him. An accomplished orator such as himself must surely be embarrassed that his daughter could barely work through basic conversation. Still, her incompetence went unanswered by him.

“Excellent, but don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything. It won’t be a bother at all.” She had been with him long enough to know that he meant what he said, but her heart refused to accept the notion. She wondered if the housemaids who cared for them thought the same. 

“Um, thank you. I will keep it in mind...” She sat uncomfortably in her seat, waiting for her father to continue. The man had resumed scanning over papers. “Uh…father? Forgive me, but did you need me for something?” The Margrave dropped his papers at her question.

“Oh, yes, forgive me, Marianne. Count Gloucester and House Goneril are just having some dispute over Fódlan’s Locket’s fortifications and, well, I thought that I could- ah, nevermind that now.” The man quickly set aside any sheets that were occupying his attention and diverted it to Marianne fully. He cleared his throat. “I called you here to discuss that…topic we talked about last week. The deadlines are approaching soon, and I need your answer.” Marianne's mouth thinned into a line, and she aimed her gaze towards the floor. 

“...The Officer’s Academy?” She asked, knowing the answer but hoping to stall the conversation for as long as she could manage. 

“Yes. The monastery needs to have the necessary student information and paid tuition soon if one still wants to be a student. You’ve had some time to think about it. What do you say?” She remained silent.

Her father had asked her about his proposal a week ago. He suggested that going the Officer’s Academy would not only be good for their house, but for her growth and recovery. Marianne, however, loathed the idea. She feared the prospect of endangering others. She was a burden with no extraordinary skills to boast about. How her father could not see that her attendance would surely be a detriment to the Edmund name was an enigma to her. 

Margrave Edmund took Marianne’s silence as an opportunity to plead his case again. “Marianne…I think this is a very special opportunity. I know life has been difficult for you. I won’t make light of your plight. But I truly think this can only benefit you.” She closed her eyes. Her father’s voice was earnest making it all the more difficult to ignore. “There’s so much to learn in this world, Marianne, and the monastery is best equipped to teach you these things.”

She had thought of the positives, of course. What would it be like to live again? Could she truly learn something that would make her a worthwhile person? When she was young, her mother had taught her the barest of healing magics, yet she was enamored in the art of healing. And the cavalry and knights. The idea of riding atop a trusty steed to save those in need was a dream she had as a child, before everything went wrong, before misfortune cursed her life and those around her. Was there truly a chance of being more than the mistake she currently was? 

She spoke, meekly. “What of…my Crest? They can’t know.” Margrave Edmund, seeing the first hints of acceptance from his daughter, was quick to answer.

“I have a large sum of money prepared to send to the church in exchange that they keep your situation a secret.” She nodded at that, weakly. “There are so many wonderful people to meet at the monastery. You can make friends. You can learn! It's truly an extraordinary chance to work on your skills!" The Margrave, getting increasingly animated, forced himself to settle down. "I…I won’t force you, of course. This is your decision to make. I’ll accept whatever you choose to do. You know that.” 

Despite what he said, she could feel the underlying tone of the sentiment. He wanted her to go. He practically begged. She also knew that it wasn’t just for her. As a rising power, House Edmund using their only daughter to make connections with future Alliance rulers was an enticing prospect. She’d also imagine that she would be expected to speak well of House Edmund to other houses. Her attendance was as much for her as it was for her father’s status. Though he may be a good man at heart, he still had a place in the world he wanted their house to be in, and she was necessary in making that destination a reality. 

She thought over it. Her Crest was a danger, but if she kept to herself…maybe she could spare the others. All of it was terrifying, the monastery, the people…but should she waste away or jump on the chance that she may actually make herself useful for the world? For the Goddess? 

Could she become someone her parents could be proud of? 

“I’ll go.” 

It was so quiet, a breathy sound that barely escaped her lips, but the Margrave just barely picked it up. “You’ll go? Truly?” She was shaking. She could turn back from this disaster of an idea, but she willed herself.

She nodded. 

The Margrave jumped from his seat in excitement. “Oh, this is wonderful news, Marianne! I’ll have to get all the necessary paperwork ready, and I’ll need to get the funds prepared. Ah, we must start preparing for your departure immediately, as well. I’ll let the servants know, and we can get to work immediately. Oh, this is such great news! A momentous decision! I…” The man, in his joy, slowed to a stop as he came around to Marianne. She was silent, still sitting in her seat, eyes aimed down. 

He walked over to her and knelt down, wrapping an arm around her and pushing his head close to hers. 

“I’m proud of you, Marianne. So very proud. I promise, you won’t come to regret this decision.”

The young girl, still coming to terms with her choice, simply nodded. She couldn’t take it back now, no matter what. She had committed to going to the Officer’s Academy, and she would go. She had decided that. 

Still, as she sat alone in her room that night, staring blankly at her ceiling, she prayed that she had made the right decision.

  
...  
  


She opened her eyes. The sun had risen and was fully prominent in the sky. She must have dozed off a little. 

She watched the increasing number of carriages make their way towards Garreg Mach’s entrance. Their importance was marked by the number of guards that accompanied each one. Deciding she should not tarry any longer, she worked her way back inside where a large mass of people was gathered. 

It was nauseating to maneuver around the crowd, especially after having spent the past few hours in solitude. She cautiously weaved through unfamiliar people, hoping not to bother any of them. She beelined towards the inside of the monastery where she would be chaperoned and taken to her living quarters. She hoped so, at least. 

In her haste, so close to the entrance, she collided with another noble. She quickly dropped to the floor to pick up her dropped belongings, not wanting to meet the face of the one she had disturbed. She burned in shame and embarrassment as she scrambled about. “F-Forgive me, I did not look where I was walking.” 

“It’s no problem at all. Though, I hope you’re unharmed. Are you okay? Do you need assistance?” She cursed herself at the idea of taking more of this stranger’s time. She struggled, but finished gathering her things, and immediately prepared to leave. 

“No, I’m fine. I’m sorry again.”

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble. Here, Dedue can you-” 

She never spared him a glance. Her eyes set on her feet as she walked as fast as she could towards the indoors. 

The Reception Hall of the place was no less busy or quiet, but she had found a corner to rest. She exuded a tired sigh. She had only just arrived, and she was already fearing what she had gotten herself into. Her eyes scanned over the many nobles and commoners gathered about, all more prepared, more skilled, more capable than her. She wondered if she really belonged here. 

In her spot, she focused on the religious iconography decorating the hall. There was comfort in the Goddess’ visage, yet all she could ask for now was one request. 

_Goddess…if it all goes wrong…I beseech thee._

_Please, don’t hesitate to take me._


	2. Great Tree Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settling in and a chance encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The official start.

**_ 20th day of the Great Tree Moon, 1180 _ **

Moonlight bounced off the metal of his spear’s blade, hoping the reflection would provide any sort of light to illuminate the woods in front of him. He brushed aside branches and stray stems and made his way towards the clearing in the woods. Within it, sitting on the dirt and twirling an arrow between his fingers, was the Leicester Alliance’s future sovereign duke. The young boy readied his bow and arrow and trained it in his direction where he heard him approach, lowering it, then flashing him a smile when he recognized him. 

“Dimitri! There you are. You gotta let me know when you’re around the corner, your princeliness. Wouldn’t want one of these in between your eyes, you know? Would be bad for intercountry relations.” Claude von Riegan gave him a look, the boy obviously hoping for some sort of reaction. Dimitri didn’t give him one. “Sheesh, alright, just a joke. Did you find anyone out there?” Dimitri, now with a serious topic to discuss, responded.

“I’m afraid not, Claude. None of the knights were around as far as I could tell.” The Riegan boy sighed, a more pained smile adorning his face.

“Well, guess it’s just us for now, then.” Dimitri grunted in acknowledgment, accepting that their situation would not be changing soon. Claude paused for a moment before opening his mouth again. “You know, for as shitty as this situation is, I can try lighting a campfire, and we can go around and tell each other stories ‘til we’re rescued. What do you say? Wanna talk about ghost stories? Loves of our lives? The nightmares that plague our deepest dreams?” Faerghus’ prince shook his head in annoyance.

“I am not entirely sure you realize the severity of our situation.”

“Oh, I definitely do. Believe me. But some levity here and there wouldn’t hurt, would it?” 

Realizing that there was no point in arguing, he conceded. He took a seat on a log near Claude.

“I suppose you aren’t entirely wrong,” Dimitri responded. The lord from the Alliance let out a satisfied sound. At least that stopped him from speaking for now.

He’d only met Claude von Riegan recently, but Dimitri could already tell he was an interesting character. He was charismatic, charming, and much more skilled than he let on. As house leader of the Leicester Alliance’s Golden Deer, his abilities were never in question, but the boy seemed to have more and more secrets to him in the short time they’ve conversed. He was a conspirator, the man had said so himself, but his intentions seemed to be in a noble place. For now, Dimitri could trust that. Considering their situation, he didn’t have much of a choice.

“I hope our comrades our safe…this was certainly not a part of the plan, I assume,” Dimitri said out loud. 

“The Knights are powerful, they’ll be fine. And that girl is certainly feisty. She can survive.”

The house leaders, after having had a week to situate themselves, were called upon late last night. In a supposed “Academy tradition,” the house leaders were to spend a night traveling, training, then camping in the woods in hopes of connecting with each other and to foster respect between houses. They were accompanied by some of the Knights of Seiros, but even then, Dimitri felt the whole task to be superfluous and dangerous. It had started out fine enough, but a sudden rockslide had caused all of them to be separated and scattered about. Now, it was just him and the boy from the Alliance to fend for themselves until the Knights found them. 

Dimitri let out a sigh. His first week at the Academy was certainly proving to be strenuous. 

He and Claude sat within the clearing in silence, making small prattle and talk about whatever crossed their minds. The scurrying of branches and heavy footsteps behind them, however, had both nobles on their feet. The prince had his lance at the ready, waiting to tear into whatever foe appeared before them. The presence grew closer and closer, and with a large swing of an axe to cut through several branches, a white-haired girl stepped into the clearing. She looked at the two boys, weapons aimed on her, unflinching. 

“Oh. There you two are.” Dimitri lowered his spear. Claude removed his nocked arrow and let out a low whistle.

“Princess! How nice of you to join us. Please, would you like to make your way here and sound even more menacing? Really compliments the atmosphere.” The girl flicked her long hair behind her shoulder and approached. 

“Quiet, Claude.” She glanced around them, taking in her surroundings. She looked at the two of them and sighed. “With you two here alone, I take it that it’s fair to assume that the Knights aren't close by?”

“You would be correct,” Dimitri responded. “Still, it’s good to see we are all safe. It's better to be united in a perilous situation such as this.” The dignified young woman let out a noise that suggested offense. 

“Hmph. Bold of you to suggest that anything in these woods can hurt me. But I guess it is good to have each other’s backs now.” She settled next to him and Claude, planting her axe on the ground and leaning against it. 

Edelgard von Hresvelg, Adrestia’s future emperor, and leader of the Black Eagle house. She was strong and calculated, and she had high expectations for everyone and herself. She was confident, rightly so, and she was supremely dedicated to completing whatever task was at hand. Despite being so different now, that had never changed about her. If he tried hard enough, he could still make out that girl he had known from a time long gone. 

The princess looked between the Dimitri and Claude, a look that could only be described as incredulous on her face. “Have you two…just been sitting here,” she questioned, noticing that the two boys looked rather comfortable. 

“‘Afraid so. Dimitri and I didn’t have much luck finding anyone on our way here, and I find that I didn’t want to go out there alone and get eaten by hungry wolves.” Claude, quick to speak as usual, said so in a nonchalant manner. Edelgard frowned.

“So instead of searching for help _together_ , you two decided to wallow about instead?” He could sense the underlying message she was trying to convey.

“Careful, Edelgard,” Dimitri warned. “We don’t know entirely what we’ve gotten ourselves into. It’s better to stay put together instead of exacerbating our situation further. It would be disastrous if we all got lost. Who knows what’s out in these woods?” Despite what little time they’ve spent together, he was already aware that they all had differing views on how to approach the issue. He hoped that they would be found before disagreements arose.

The princess, appearing ready to retort, was interrupted by a low laughing sound emanating from the woods around them. The three sprang to attention instantly, brandishing their weapons and moving their backs to each other. 

A rugged looking man with a harsh, square face stepped into the clearing. He held a dangerous, cleaving axe to his shoulder. “The blonde brat is right,” the ruffian said, sounding all too pleased. “Who knows what sort of trouble is lurking about, ready to snap?” The man readied his axe.

Dimitri stepped forward and pointed his lance on him.

“You would find it in your best interest to keep away,” he stated indignantly. “Your intentions are clear as day. A brigand like you has no chance against us.” The enemy smiled and snarled. 

“ _A_ brigand _?_ Boy...there’s more than just me.” As if waiting for their moment, several bandits appeared behind the man, all armed. They popped out from behind trees and bushes. The three lords were soon outnumbered.

Dimitri stepped back to Edelgard and Claude, the latter shooting him a pointed look. 

“Are you serious? ‘No chance against us?’ You couldn’t say anything less lame?” Dimitri ignored Claude’s remarks, instead focusing on the increasing number of enemies advancing upon them. 

Claude inched backwards, checking behind him. “Hmm...you know, I think I have an idea.”

“And, pray tell, what would that be,” Edelgard asked. Not to soon after she finished speaking, Dimitri felt a gust of wind replace the spot where Claude stood. He looked back to find the young noble sprinting into the woods.

Edelgard was quick to follow. 

“Oh, for the love of-” he dashed after them, the bandits behind him yelling and starting the chase.

This was not how he expected this day to start.

* * *

Marianne sat within the tranquility of the library. It was late at night, or rather, very early in the morning, but these were the only times she could read, write, and be out of her room alone. She would retire soon. Thankfully, official classes haven’t begun, so she had leeway to stay up late here and there before things moved into full swing. 

Her first week had been exhausting. So much change, so much things to adapt to, and not enough energy to keep up. As a noble of the Leicester Alliance, she had been placed within the Golden Deer house, though she wouldn’t be surprised if no one was aware. She had spoken little since she arrived, her most used phrase being her name. She mostly kept to herself, appearing and disappearing without any fanfare. 

Her classmates of the Golden Deer seemed kind enough. Their leader, Claude von Riegan, was sly, if not secretive, and he had a penchant for prying for information. Luckily for her, she wasn’t in his sights, for now. Count Gloucester’s son was snobbish and formal, but he had his heart in the right place if his claim to “protect the common man” was any indication. The commoners were a lively bunch. The young girl from House Ordelia was a prodigy and genius, but Marianne couldn’t shake the fact that she was scary. The girl of House Goneril was very interesting. Hilda Valentine Goneril seemed carefree and sociable. She had been the one to attempt to converse with Marianne the most. The pink-haired girl seemed to have taken a liking to her, though she surmised it was out of pity for her miserable social skills. Nevertheless, Marianne had humored her, Hilda being the closest she could recall having a semblance of a conversation with. 

She yawned and rubbed her eyes. She could only imagine what the circles under her eyes looked like now. She attempted to mask them with makeup at first, but it was too much effort. She did her best to appear presentable, but someone as unremarkable as her had no reason to stand out. 

Powering through her drowsiness, she finished scratching down the last lines of her prayer into her journal. The book was a small, blue thing, nothing notable adorning it. It was a personal gift she had received from her parents years ago, before they passed on without her. Back then, it was a simple decoration that collected dust in the corner of her room. Now, she had taken to filling it with whatever personal prayers and musings crossed her mind. Though pages lined with prayers of repentance or how she felt filled the notebook, not all of it was just for the Goddess. 

Perhaps it was pointless to write words the dead would never read. 

She never could find it within herself to stop.

Another yawn escaped her. Her eyelids began to droop farther and farther down. She shut her journal and rested her face in her hands. She was always tired, but the events of the week were beginning to catch up to her. The year had just started, yet she already felt overwhelmed by what little had occurred. What a disappointment she was, unable to stomach just a week of work. 

She laid her arms on the table and buried her face within them. She would need to leave soon, but the motivation to move wasn’t there, the motor unable to start. She sat there, immovable. 

She would get up and move soon. 

She just needed a moment to collect herself.

…

…

…

“Hello? Miss?”

The voice blended with the sounds of chirping songbirds loud enough to be heard inside

“Um…miss?”

She slowly blinked open her eyes and raised her head from her arms. She rubbed some crust from her eyes, her blurry vision focusing on the face of a librarian standing near her, looking at her with concern. She frowned at the random sight of the old man in her room, but as her vision grew sharper, she noticed several other students staring at her within the expanse of her strangely spacious room.

_Oh._

“Wait- where- what,” she immediately sat up, ramrod straight, her previously dreary eyes now wide in alarm. The librarian who had been attempting to speak to her only smiled kindly. 

“Ah. Good morning, miss. Did you rest well?” She could feel the burning blush overtaking her face. She looked around to see other students watching her in amusement. 

She had fallen asleep in the library.

This was a disaster. 

“I-I’m sorry, please, excuse me.” Marianne quickly launched herself from her seat, her eyes fixated on her feet as she moved as quickly as she could without running towards the exit. She barely registered whatever the librarian had called to her as she rushed her way towards her dorm. She did her best to ignore the curious glances from her peers as she moved past them. 

She managed to step outside where she shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight. How long was she asleep for the sun to be this far out already? A question for another time, she decided, as she continued to get as far away as possible from the scene of her embarrassment. 

She had reached the Greenhouse close to the stairs to the 2nd floor dormitories when a commotion in the distance demanded her attention. She looked to find a sizeable number of soldiers and guards bustling about, many of them angling towards the Entrance Hall. She heard the shouting of orders, urgency in their tones, but what attracted their attention, she couldn’t see. She was fixated on the mass of moving parts in the distance, something strangely mesmerizing about it. 

“Woah. What’s going on over there?”

Her head snapped to her side to find Hilda beside her also watching on. Several other students began descending from the stairs and out their dorms to observe. Hilda craned her neck for a better angle before giving up.

“Do you know what happened, Marianne? You were out here first.” The other students that heard Hilda had turned their attention towards Marianne. Once again, she found herself in the spotlight she had been actively avoiding. Everyone looked at her expecting an answer.

“Um, I actually don’t know…” Her answer didn’t seem satisfactory if the looks from her classmates said anything. “Uh, why don’t you all go check? Maybe they need assistance?” 

There was a moment of pause, a few more seconds that Marianne had to endure. The students began to murmur amongst themselves. One of them spoke up.

“Hey, yeah, she’s right,” the short boy with light blue hair said. “What if there’s a fight going on? We definitely gotta-” 

With the attention on the boy, Marianne slipped out from the crowd and up the stairs. 

She reached her room and breathed out a sigh of relief. She shut and locked her door. She bemoaned to the Goddess, asking her why she let her suffer so. 

She wondered if it was unkind of her to not be more concerned over whatever uproar was being caused, but the scathing embarrassment of the day’s events had forced her to prioritize her own dignity instead. Her incompetence would be just another thing she would have to pray to the Goddess for forgiveness for.

Her shoulders sagged.

This was not how she expected the day to start.

* * *

“While I appreciate the...thorough examination, I can assure you that I am fine.” 

The physician, Manuela, he believes, continued to scan over him, searching for any slight lick or scratch that begged healing. 

“Oh, Your Highness, no need to be so brave. Considering it was our fault that got you three into this mess, it’s imperative that we keep you all in good health. Besides, a strong, young man like you would hate to have any lasting marks, hm?”

He did _not_ like the implications he was getting from this woman.

Their survival from the bandit attack was nothing short of a stroke of luck. To find willing mercenaries offering help at the break of dawn in a nearby village may have been happenstance, but the Blade Breaker himself being the one who would come to save them? As Claude had put it, the gods of fortune must surely have been smiling upon them. 

Perhaps the most interesting occurrence, however, had been the appearance of the Blade Breaker’s apparent son. Byleth, he remembers the stony-faced mercenary saying. The man could not have been much older than him, but Dimitri was enthralled by the way the young mercenary held control of the entire situation. Every action was calculated, every move, precise. Watching that man proved to Dimitri that he still had much more to learn. To be efficient and unparalleled like that man…it would prove vital for Dimitri. 

He winced as Manuela wrapped a bandage around a bruise on his arm. He had been stuck deferring to the Knights the entire day, the three house leaders being treated and cared for like they were ancient artifacts discovered and caked in mud and grime. He supposed it wasn’t entirely inaccurate. They had also caused quite a disturbance amongst their classmates upon their return. He had never seen Dedue so pale at learning of Dimitri’s dire situation since when he found the boy amidst the flames. The knightly instincts that Ingrid had been honing activated, and Sylvain had to restrain her for once, lest she started ordering the _actual_ knights to assist her. Felix had simply said that he hoped Dimitri didn’t embarrass himself. A combination of all these things had kept him preoccupied the entire day, his last stop in the Infirmary keeping him well into the night.

A white aura emanated from Manuela’s hands, and the open scratch on Dimitri’s forearm mended and shut. She stepped back, humming in satisfaction. He took that as a sign that she was finished. He stood and put on his uniform shirt over his undershirt, adjusting and smoothing over his blue cape. 

“Now, I advise that you rest for the next few days to ensure a full recovery. We don’t want to aggravate any of those bruises.” 

He nodded. “Am I free to go?” He heard her tsk. 

“My, so energetic,” she said in a way that made Dimitri unnecessarily uncomfortable. “Yes, you’re free to return to your room. I have to attend to some of those mercenaries as well.”

“The mercenaries? Are they still here?”

“They are. The church decided to provide lodging for them after saving your souls. I hear the Archbishop has also taken a special interest to two of them.” Manuela headed for the exit. “Remember, no strenuous activity! You children need to learn how to rest! Take care!” The nurse left him, then, alone in the infirmary with his thoughts. 

A special interest with two of the mercenaries? No doubt, Dimitri thought, she was talking about Jeralt and his son. The information excited him. There was still too much questions unanswered about the stoic man. Maybe he could even sway him to consider enlisting his service with the Kingdom. A man of his talents would be a boon for him. 

Dimitri shuffled out of the infirmary, the quiet of the hallways enveloping him. He had been there for quite a while, and many of the faculty members were out discussing matters over today’s earlier developments, leaving the prince all alone. 

Dimitri had been on his feet since late last night, his aching body telling him so. Still, the idea of returning to his room wasn’t as pleasing as it seemed. He knew without a doubt that his classmates were eager to get his account of the tale he had experienced this dawn. That meant more questions and more answers that he, frankly, did not feel like repeating. He needed a quiet place to rest his buzzing mind. 

He ambled towards the library. 

No one would scold him for wanting to get ahead on his academic work, would they?

* * *

Marianne cautiously made her way up the steps, her feet silently planting themselves on the floor one at a time. It was late again. She had collapsed onto her room that morning, the sun long gone by the time she had woken up. She was starving, groggy, and her mind felt foggy, but she wouldn’t dare bother anyone this late at night for her mistakes. She accepted that her miserable state was an acceptable punishment. 

What worried Marianne, however, was her missing journal. In her haste to escape, she must have forgotten it at the library. Her initial panic had shocked her enough to get out of bed. The idea of a stranger perusing her most intimate thoughts was just about the worst thing she could imagine. She prayed that it was not the case, her notebook instead being left alone.

The second floor was eerily silent. The absence of people probably related to the commotion she saw earlier. Apparently, the house leaders had been attacked by bandits on an early morning training assignment, their lives saved by an “astoundingly astute” mercenary, as Claude had said. She paled at the thought of their situation. It was no secret that eventually they all would take to field assignments as part of their curriculum. She could stomach her life being in danger, but if she were to be the reason a classmate of hers got hurt? Just the thought made her feel guilty. No matter what, she would put her all into healing her classmates. 

Though the soundless corridors were oddly unnerving, she found some hope in that the late hour would ensure that the library would be empty, her excursion, unbothered. 

Or, at least, that’s what she thought would be the case. 

“Oh,” she involuntarily gasped, freezing up at the sight of the appearance of the other stranger in the room. He was stacking some textbooks and catalogues, his movements rather lackadaisical, but the sound of her surprise had him alert and poised, his body going into a fiercely defensive stance. She recoiled in fright. "Ah!- Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to alarm you. I should've known someone else would be here. Please,” she pleaded, bowing. “I apologize." She felt the energy of the other student immediately dissipate, their movements returning to a more relaxed state. 

"It's quite alright," the other boy assured her. "No harm done. If anything, you were in the right to assume no one would be here. It is late after all." At his insistence, she lifted herself from her bow, yet she kept her eyes aimed downwards. She looked up at him as much as she could to see who she had disturbed.

He was a student, his uniform being the obvious indication. He wore it differently than most, gauntlets and greaves fitted over and a striking blue cape clasped onto it. Just from his attire, he carried a different aura than just a regular student, which made it even more daunting. Locks of blonde hair fell over his face. An unorthodox look but strangely...appealing in its own way. 

The same face, however, remained stuck on her position. 

She would’ve left without another word if she hadn’t noticed that this stranger was in possession of her journal. She anxiously wrought her hands repeatedly, her question formulated but her body unwilling to voice it. The silence had stretched on longer than it had any right to be. What should she say now? _“I’m sorry I_ _can’t function normally, but may I have that book, and let’s forget all about this?”_ She strained herself, forcing the words to come out as best she could.

“Um...that journal your holding…” It was all she could manage, but thankfully, it was enough.

"Ah, of course. I don't suppose this belongs to you does it?" His tone suggested levity instead of hostility, a somewhat helpful fact that weakened Marianne’s trembling. If he was doing his best to work through this, she felt it was fair for her to attempt to as well. That courtesy was the least she could do. She took in a deep, steadying breath, and she lifted her head fully. She gave him a nod, though she still struggled to look at him eye-to-eye. 

She didn’t know what he was doing that had him say nothing for several moments. From her periphery, he was merely looking at her. Perhaps over her? 

It crossed her mind that maybe she was supposed to say something more? 

“...may I have it back,” she asked, or rather, attempted to ask. She was as quiet as an ant’s footsteps. 

Curiously, whatever noise left her seemed to have snapped the boy out of his reverie, the young man awkwardly “coughing” to stymie the fact. 

“Uh- yes, of course.” He held out the book towards her. She slowly crossed the gap and carefully took her belonging, clutching it closely to her chest like a lifeline. In doing so, she had a clear look at his face for the first time, details she could not ascertain previously. She looked for only a second.

He was of nobility. Just the way he looked screamed so. But it wasn’t the smooth face that caught her attention, but rather, his eyes. They were strikingly blue, bright orbs that rivaled a spotless sky on the clearest days. But, for whatever reason, there was something else behind them that betrayed the composed look he expressed. Bright blue eyes that held something black beneath the surface. Two spheres composed of a paradox. 

The darkness in the eyes. It was… 

Familiar.

Her being shook at the revelation.

Why were they familiar?

She had an inkling of what the answer was when the familiarity was that of looking in a mirror. 

"I hope you didn't spend too long searching for it. I also didn't read any of its contents, in case you were concerned." A half-second of fear marked her face for fear that he somehow had knowledge of her inner thoughts before recomposing herself.

"It's no problem at all," was all she spoke, another whisper that reverberated too loudly throughout the room for how little was said. 

She looked away from those eyes, her previous anxiety taking a hold of her once again. She felt she had stolen an undeserved secret when she looked at him, and she didn’t know how to process the fact without blurting it outright. 

The moments ticked by, the two unsure of how to continue with the other in the room. Marianne wondered if these interactions were another part of the curse she carried. 

Unable to withstand the stillness any longer, she burst out whatever quick apology she could make, more words than she thought possible.

"I apologize again. I sincerely hope I didn't disturb you for too long. Thank you for returning this to me…I'll be on my way. I…um- good night." She turned and ran, leaving the boy there.

The path in front of her was lit up by the night torches. She had retrieved her journal, and the boy, if true to his word, left its contents untouched. He was kind, or at least kind enough to tarry with her more than he needed. 

But Marianne could not forget the look that she stole, the eyes of whoever she had met striking a resonant chord within her. She knew the flash of those eyes and that look. 

She slightly frowned at the realization she never received his name. Maybe it was better that way. Whether what she saw was reality or her own vision creating things she wanted to see, his life would be better off without her interrupting it.

Still, alone in her room, reading over her journal, she wondered what kind of person he could be.

* * *

****

**_ 27th day of the Great Tree Moon, 1180 _ **

He deflected another thrust and swatted away the following strikes with his lance. Dimitri held his ground, Felix unable to pierce his defense. The swordsman growled and relaxed his posture. 

“I guess you aren’t completely helpless after all,” his friend panted. Ignoring the venomous nature of his tone, Dimitri responded.

“I have been practicing my defenses. Your assaults are very inspiring. You’ve grown quicker than I could imagine, Felix. This mock battle will certainly prove easy with you around.” Combat anger with kindness, he reminded himself. Felix’s feelings weren’t unfounded, and Dimitri wouldn’t treat them as such. 

His friend, in response, scoffed and sheathed the training blade. “Whatever,” Felix muttered, walking away towards any other soul within the Training Grounds willing to train with him. “Better things to do than converse with a beast.”

Dimitri sighed at the sight. 

“I still do not know why he treats you in such a way, Your Highness.” Dedue, Dimitri’s trustworthy shadow, stepped to him. The tall boy watched Felix, his demeanor implying the need to protect Dimitri. 

“It’s...a complicated issue, Dedue. I do not know the reason myself...but I feel I may have an idea.” His expression grew dark. Dedue, thankfully, chose not to comment. 

“Even still, I loathe to leave you with bad company. Maybe lunch would help reenergize you after training.” Dimitri, understanding, smiled. 

“Lead the way, my friend.” The two exited the Training Grounds, their destination being the Dining Hall. Dimitri’s vassal may stubbornly claim to be only that, but these moments of caring for him through his work made Dimitri content. 

Both strolled through the dormitories, passing by their Professor’s new room. It was shocking to hear that the Church not only reappointed Jeralt as their head Captain, but even appointed his son as a professor for the year. Though he would not boast out loud, he would be eternally prideful that the young Professor personally chose the Blue Lion house as his class of choice. Now, with a mock battle between the houses looming, Dimitri and his peers were eager to prove themselves to their skilled and stoic teacher. 

Passing by the Greenhouse, Dedue halted causing Dimitri to bump into him. 

“Is there something wrong, Dedue?” The young man in question was staring intently at the interior of the Greenhouse. 

“Forgive me, Your Highness. It’s just that the Professor had planted the seeds I gave him earlier today, and I am curious to see how the rest are doing. Perhaps…” Dimitri let out an amused sound and patted his friend on the back. 

“Go on, Dedue. It’s fine.” His guardian looked at him, bowing. 

“No, it’s okay. I do not wish to waste your time on such matters. I can handle this on my own time.” Dimitri, doing his best not to roll his eyes, did not falter.

“I mean it, Dedue. There’s no harm. I’ll wait here until you’re done.”

Looking between his lord and the Greenhouse, Dedue moved towards the flora. 

“Thank you, Your Highness. I will be quick.” The prince watched his protector walk into the Greenhouse, the young man reaching for a watering can and moving towards the back. 

Dimitri took up residence against a nearby support. He let his mind wander, idle thoughts and tasks filling the space.

_After the mock battle, classes will begin in earnest. I’ll have to practice sharpening my skills in combat. The professor is a natural tactician. Hopefully his guidance can lead us to greatness._

His eyes glazed over the world before him, no specific sight catching his gaze until they stumbled upon the wooden dock of the Fishing Pond. 

A girl stood in solitude, her hands together in prayer. She stayed there, unmoving, loose blue hair occasionally moving to and fro with the light breezes. 

He watched her, intrigued. She was the same girl he had encountered at the library a week ago.

She was…notable to put it mildly. She was timid in the library, her movements making herself appear as if she was weighed down at the limbs. She looked far too tired. He couldn’t help but think about her now that she was in front of him again.

He hadn’t seen her since that night, her appearance and disappearance being an enigma that made him question whether she existed. The fact that he never saw her present anywhere only strengthened his theory.

But there she was, just like that. Same blue hair, same gentle appearance, perhaps the same eyes- those eyes that-

“Greetings, your lordliness. What’re you up to this afternoon with your head in the clouds?” A hand laid itself upon his shoulder, and the prince turned to find the Golden Deer’s leader leaning against him. Claude’s innocent smile suggested that he knew that he just interrupted Dimitri’s thinking and was proud of it.

“Hello, Claude,” he replied rather detachedly, looking back towards the dock. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, you know, I wasn’t going to ask you for anything, but since you’re offering, you wanna share any weaknesses that you and your classmates have before the mock battle? Think about it, it would definitely be much more impressive if you beat us even if we had knowledge of your shortcomings, don’t you think?” He was joking, or at least Dimitri hoped so. He didn’t appear that naive to him, did he?

“An interesting thought, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. Perhaps Edelgard might share.” 

“Yeesh, the only thing she’ll share with me is the fifty ways she could break me, probably.” Claude waited for his banter to be reciprocated, but the prince was mute. The blonde was intent on staring off in the distance. “Hey? Dimitri? Humor me here, at least, you don’t even have to look at me.” Dimitri let out a small, irritated grunt, the same noise made when one’s patience was being tried by a tedious task. He shook his head and took on an apologetic look.

“Forgive my rudeness, Claude. Something’s currently on my mind, I did not mean to offend.” The temptation to look back at the girl again was ignored, but his rival did so instead, looking towards what attracted the prince’s attention.

“Something, huh? Looks more like someone.” Dimitri could already imagine the verbal barbs he was setting himself up for, but he couldn’t stave off his curiosity.

“Do you know her, possibly?” Claude looked at him, confused.

“Her? Yeah,” the slick student said as he leaned against the same spot next to Dimitri. “Her name’s Marianne von Edmund. She’s from the Alliance. She’s Margrave Edmund’s daughter…and that’s pretty much all I know about her. She’s a quiet one, that’s for sure. Even I haven’t had much time to interact with her, and we’re in the same class. Frankly, I’m quite surprised to see her anywhere that isn’t the Cathedral or her room.” 

Marianne von Edmund. A name for the face. 

Claude gave him a suspicious look. “Why are you asking? Trying to gather intel for the future battle, perhaps?” Dimitri, still trying to associate her name with the face, shook his head. 

“No, that’s not it.” Claude, an eyebrow still raised, shrugged in acceptance of Dimitri’s answer. 

“Well, there’s not much to say anyways. She’s a healer from what we’ve seen. A pretty good one, actually. But she’s adamant about not participating, so you won’t have to worry about her.” 

“Is that so,” Dimitri said, more a statement to fill in the air as he digested the information rather than a question. 

“Mhm. You seem really interested there, prince. Did she do something to you? Did you do something to _her?_ ”

“No, nothing like that,” he insisted. “I ran into her last week at the library. She’d lost something, and I returned it to her. We didn’t speak much, though. I never got her name. It’s been a stray thought on my mind, that’s all.”

The Alliance’s future leader quirked an eyebrow once again. 

“She _spoke_ to you?”

“Err…yes?” Dimitri had to admit that they exchanged very little but talking was talking. “Was that not what we should have done?”

“No, no,” the yellow-caped boy said, waving a hand in dismissal of the notion. “It’s just, like I said, she hardly talks. Hilda’s a damn motor mouth, and she’s just barely getting words out of Marianne. I’m quite surprised, is all, your princeliness. You must be more debonair than I thought.” Dimitri, one of the more skilled defenders against Claude’s silver tongue, turned away in embarrassment. 

“It was nothing like that, Claude. She had lost something. I just returned it to her.” The future Grand Duke appeared ready to capitalize, but heavy footsteps interrupted him before he could.

“I am back, Your Highness,” Dedue announced. “Is everything alright?”

Claude, sizing up the newcomer who was examining him intensely, knew how to choose and pick his battles.

“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Claude said. He patted Dimitri’s shoulder. “I’ll see you at the mock battle, yeah? Make sure to be careful!” 

Dimitri and Dedue watched the Alliance’s future quickly dart up the dormitory stairs. 

“Was he bothering you?”

“No,” Dimitri exhaled, exasperated. “He was just being himself.” 

“That isn’t exactly reassuring.”

Dimitri, saying nothing, gestured towards the Dining Hall. Dedue complied and led the way. 

They reached the entrance after trudging up the stairs. Dimitri took one more look out towards the water. The girl was still there, the picture of her praying in solitude imprinting itself in his mind. 

“Your Highness?” Dedue called out to him.

He spared the scene one last look before retreating into the hall.

Marianne von Edmund. 

He’ll keep the name in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurred to me, when writing this chapter, just exactly what I had signed myself up for. Uh oh. Too late now.
> 
> This first month was much more difficult to write than I expected. So much to setup without it feeling like pointless blabber. I like how this ended up, but we'll see. The following months will be much easier as time goes on.
> 
> I hope.


	3. Harpstring Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First experiences and opportunistic solutions.

**_ 11:00 a.m. on the 11th day of the Harpstring Moon, 1180 _ **

The pale-blue hair of a curious student brushed with the extending leaves and petals around her as she leaned in closer to observe the dizzying spectacle of the blooming flowers growing around in the Greenhouse. She sighed in delight at the current sight of the numerous white bulbs that inhabited the space in front of her. Lilies of the Valley, her favorite. Memories here and there of a gentle mother showering her daughter in pale flowers under a setting sun lingered in her mind’s eye. She gently smoothed over a lily, her finger barely in contact with the stem. She wasn’t allowed to touch what wasn’t hers. She let out another sigh, a heavier, more reminiscent one.

What would it be like to return to happiness such as those days?

“Miss Edmund. Good afternoon.”

She spun around and came face-to-face with the blank expression of the Academy’s new professor. 

“Uh. Hello.” 

The ex-mercenary stood there looking at her. She did her best not to crumble under his gaze.

Professor Byleth was the name of the Academy’s new professor. The man had also been the same one to save Claude and the other leaders, something she was grateful for. Surely someone as strong as him assisting them would only lead to positive developments. His exemplary leadership over the Blue Lion house in the mock battle certainly proved so, the way he had seamlessly led his students and their leader to victory.

The professor’s head angled a bit. He looked behind her towards the lilies and back at her. He nodded his head in apparent satisfaction as if he had just learned a vital fact. He was silent and unmoving. 

As talented as the new man was, Marianne, along with all her peers, discovered that he was…odd. Apparently, his father had kept him sheltered from most people growing up leading to his peculiar social idiosyncrasies. She didn’t mind his silence, but she certainly was affected by his unchanging gaze. Marianne felt as if he could see straight into her soul, his look capable of analyzing every action she took and the reasons for them. It made him a surprisingly natural professor according to the Blue Lions, but that type of external introspection was unnerving to someone with much to hide such as her. 

“Um, if you’ll excuse me…” She went to move past him, the professor nodding her goodbye as she exited the Greenhouse. She had enough time with the flowers anyway. 

She walked with no destination in mind as she let her legs move wherever they pleased. It was a free day, no mandatory or extra work assigned. Her curriculum, to her surprise, wasn’t as difficult as she feared. She wasn’t exactly studious, but reading the necessary text and working through supposed situations mentally was something she could immerse herself in. Her classmates must have felt the same, their abilities showing to be outstanding from the start. Claude’s growing reputation for being one with a knack for tactics wasn’t unfounded, and others like Hilda or Lysithea just had either the natural talent or the work ethic to excel. They all studied and learned together, the class meshing surprisingly well even with her.

Practical learning had been another story, unfortunately. She couldn’t swing a sword, had no aptitude for archery, and couldn’t lift an axe with all her efforts. The most she could muster for self-defense was ice magic she has never used in the field. Her classmates encouraged her that her healing skills were second-to-none, but she wanted to accomplish more. If only her class provided the opportunity.

She frowned in disappointment. While the Officer’s Academy offered education and training in all aspects, each house had their curriculum tailored to their country of origin. The Golden Deer, therefore, devoted most of their specialized training towards archery, an Alliance staple and an art Marianne was woefully inadequate at. Her professor also wasn’t equipped to help her. Hanneman, for as brilliant as a man he was, mostly focused on the aforementioned subject and magical studies, already a primary area of study for her. There was no opportunity for her to expand what little skills she had, not without having a foundation in those things, at least. What help could she provide if she could properly wield a blade or thrust a lance? To ride atop a mount and rescue her companions?

_To ride a steed…_

Her walking slowed to a stall as she took stock of where she subconsciously ended up in. Some knights moved past her carrying buckets of water filled to the brim, their targets being several stabled horses.

She walked to one of the creatures lazing about alone. The corners of her mouth turned upwards, a rare sensation taking over her features.

For as long as she had lived, she has loved the animals and wildlife that inhabited the world. Beautiful creatures with either the freedom to live how they pleased or the ability to assist in humanity’s daily lives. Animals that always held the wonders of the world in their eyes, creatures that could never judge her for what she was. Where did this feeling come from? Was it from listening to the enchanting songs of the birds during those countryside sunrises? Did it come from when her father let her ride atop their mare when she had asked and begged him? It mattered not to her for the presence of these newfound friends had been a shining spot in her blackening outlook. 

She slowly approached the stallion, its brown-grey coat covered under its fully suited bard. She held out a hand to signal non-hostility, and the horse, giving a few cautionary sniffs, accepted her and nuzzled itself against her. She giggled at its sudden need to be petted.

“Hello there, my friend. How strong you must be to have so much energy even after wearing all that armor. How are you?”

In response, the horse neighed and rubbed itself under Marianne’s palm. She giggled again and rubbed on whatever unarmored skin was on its head. 

“Hehe. I’m glad to hear,” she replied, taking the reaction as a positive one. “You’re such a kind creature for being so nice to me. What’s your name?” She looked around to see if the owner or a stablehand were nearby. Finding them absent or tending to other steeds, she leaned in closer. “Hmm…how does Dorte sound? A strong name. I think it’s a pretty name, don’t you think?” 

He neighed happily again.

“Ah. Then it’s such a pleasure to meet you, Dorte.” 

She stayed there with her new friend, her first friend at the Academy if she was being honest to herself. Dorte had taken to her nicely, something she was gladdened by. She gently stroked its muzzle. 

The armor Dorte wore indicated that the horse was for warfare. The idea of a gentle creature maneuvering the chaos of the battlefield saddened yet inspired her.

“You must be very brave, aren’t you?”

She imagined the hardy horse gracing a fiery field, storming across the land to aid its comrades. Before she had time to picture otherwise, she imagined herself riding a horse. Riding for leisure, riding to battle, riding to _save_.

She wondered.

“Would you be my friend, Dorte?”

* * *

“Sylvain, if I see you making eyes at that girl across the hall one more time, I swear…”

Dimitri dipped his spoon into the dessert confection.

“Ingrid, my friend! I am not looking at that girl. I am looking at _that_ one. Keep up.”

He mixed the contents of the confection together. 

“Mercie! Felix won’t share his meal even though he said he doesn’t like it!”

“Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean I won’t eat it. Also, stop yelling.”

What was this meal called, again? It had Noa fruit, he was sure.

“Now, now Annie. Let Felix eat in peace. Here, have some of mine.”

“Here you can have some of mine as well! I got some extra.”

“Oh, thanks Mercie! And Ashe! See, Felix, that’s what _kindness_ looks like.”

“For the Goddess’- why are you antagonizing me?”

Saghert and Cream. Yes, that was it. He smiled, satisfied. He scooped a bite into his spoon.

“Felix, I advise that you put down the knife so close from your face. You might injure yourself.”

“Stay out of this, lapdog.”

“I am merely suggesting.”

He let the serving rest in his mouth, chewing and swallowing. 

It probably tasted good. 

He looked at his professor sitting across him, the man watching the rest of the Blue Lions in apparent concern. Dimitri had learned that it was best to let the chaos swallow itself instead of trying to quell it and spread it, a lesson he picked up after having had Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix in his life for years. 

The professor looked worried but was hesitant in intervening in the growing action. He looked to Dimitri, the prince raising an eyebrow to voice the unspoken question in the air.

The professor sighed. “It’s good for class bonding,” was all the man said before shoveling a bite of his dessert in his mouth. Dimitri nodded to show consolidation for the man’s decision.

The professor had invited the class to participate in the Dining Hall’s “Bonding Bites” menu for him and the students to connect more. Still riding high on their mock battle victory, everyone was eager to join. Unfortunately, the professor had underestimated their…enthusiasm. 

Dimitri had laughed it off. Everyone in his class was a diligent worker, and they were all kind souls. He figured it was fine for them to enjoy themselves. 

“So, professor, is there anything on your mind?” Dimitri asked the man. Byleth, back to looking expressionless, answered.

“Just thinking of certain upcoming tasks that need to be completed. Lesson plans, hiring battalions, preparing for next week’s practice battle…” The professor, finger to his chin, had devolved into muttering to himself. 

“I’m sure whatever you have planned will be fine for us,” Dimitri said. The ex-mercenary was certainly devoted to his new job, that was evident. The crown prince considered that admirable. “I’m curious, professor. What do you think of our class’ abilities so far? Anything worth noting?” 

The professor nodded, welcoming the change in subject. “You’re all surprisingly quick to pick things up. I appreciate that quality. On a real battlefield, quick thinking can decide between life or death.” Dimitri leaned in, intent on taking every word to heart. “You all make a well-balanced unit, as well. You, Dedue, and Felix make an intimidating front line. When Ingrid and Sylvain get more experienced with their mounts, their versatility will be essential. The last three provide excellent support. Your intuition to work into this formation seamlessly is praiseworthy.” Dimitri tried not to beam at his professor’s commendation. He was proud that his work- _their_ work was showing and paying off.

Despite the praise, Dimitri noticed the professor’s expression return to one of deep thought. 

“Is there something else?” Dimitri asked. Byleth, looking pensive, shook his head.

“I suppose it’s nothing, for now.” 

Dimitri frowned. “Please, professor. If there’s an issue, inform us. We welcome criticism, no need to worry about our feelings. Anything to improve.” 

His professor stared at him, quiet. Dimitri realized that he may have been unintentionally informal. He went to apologize but was met with his answer. 

“Many of you are…reckless, to say the least.” 

That gave him pause.

“Reckless…?”

The professor nodded. “You’re all gifted, there’s no denying that. But many of you engage in careless maneuvers on impulse to assist each other, whether because of confidence in your abilities, kindness of heart, or both. You especially, Dimitri. You storm in unrestrained sometimes.” The personal evaluation caused his head to hang. “These things will improve with experience. But Mercedes as our singular healer will be exhausted soon before a battle’s end. When that happens, good intentions won’t be enough to save you or your friends.”

Dimitri stared into his empty bowl, absorbing the information. He was ready for a critique…just not one about this. 

Was he so reckless? Was he unknowingly putting allies in danger? 

“We’re all still learning, Dimitri. These are things we’re going to work on.” Dimitri looked away. 

“I…I know. Still, I simply can’t hesitate if an ally is in danger. I…will save them. I’m not the only one that feels like this.” He looked to his right, to his friends. To Ingrid, a girl entrenched into chivalric values. To Felix, someone who refused to lose again. To Sylvain, a friend who had been looking over them since the beginning. To Dedue, a boy who had lost everything already and was ready to sacrifice himself for him. “Are you saying we leave our allies in danger?”

“No. Never. I’m saying that you all need to be more aware of your limits.” 

Limits. He almost laughed at the idea of being held back by such a thing ever again. He refused to.

“And what if we can’t…what happens?” 

He did not earn an immediate response. The professor took his time in serving himself another bite of his meal. Even after finishing it, Dimitri did not get his answer until soon after. 

“If you can’t…then you die. Just like that.”

* * *

**_ 1:32 p.m. on the 18th day of the Harpstring Moon, 1180 _ **

Knights of Seiros manned the head of the march, another battalion of them occupying the rear. In the middle, several merchants and their precious wares were transported in carriages. The Golden Deer walked directly behind. 

Marianne blanched after learning their first field assignment was approaching soon. When she was informed by Professor Hanneman that the mission was to escort several merchants through one of the safest stretches in the Alliance accompanied by several of the Knights of Seiros, she visibly quaked in relief. She did not know how long she could put off true combat, but for now, she was happy to lie in wait. 

She walked alongside her classmates, all of them lax because of the mission’s undemanding nature. Lorenz led them to showcase his “natural talent,” yet found himself tweaking the position of the rose flower on his outfit and maintaining his appearance in general. Ignatz had been framing the landscape scenery with his fingers when no one was looking, but his stealth abilities were insufficient to say the least. Leonie was the one to tell him so, much to his chagrin. Lysithea was walking while studying a rather complicated looking tome. Marianne had to reorient the girl several times for her safety. Raphael had so graciously accepted the job of carrying Hilda, the latter currently piggybacking on the broad frame of the commoner. 

“You know,” Hilda announced to everyone, “I’m not saying I want us to be attacked or anything, but if anything halfway interesting were to happen, I wouldn’t object.”

“That’s just asking for some bad luck,” Leonie called out. “I, personally, don’t mind how this is going so far.”

“Huh. Really? I thought you’d be really gung-ho about fighting with wanting to be a mercenary and whatnot,” Hilda stated.

“Hey, mercenary work is just as much as stuff like this as it is fighting. Besides, do you really want to spend more days nose deep in textbooks?”

“Yes,” Lysithea said matter-of-factly, her eyes not leaving her book. “If it means I get a desk to put this thing down, then I’m all for it.”

“Why not close the book for a bit and look around, Lysithea?” Ignatz stretched an arm out to the surroundings. “The open fields are certainly a beauty, aren’t they?”

Marianne couldn’t disagree. The sprawling plains seemed to stretch for miles and the cloudless sky completed the horizon perfectly. 

“Hmph…I suppose you are right,” the white-haired girl conceded.

“Indeed,” the Gloucester noble chimed in. “The image is truly a splendid sight to behold befitting a mission for exemplary students such as us.”

“Do you want a better view, Lysithea? I totally got more room on my shoulders for ya!” Hilda giggled as Lysithea admonished Raphael, the big boy insisting that a ride is available if she needs one. The Goneril girl turned towards the timid girl.

“What about you, Marianne? Bored out of your mind?”

“Oh. Um. Well, I don’t mind, I suppose,” she told them. She was getting better at speaking with them. “As long as we’re all safe, I’m okay with it.”

“Aww,” the pinkette cooed. “You’re such a sweetheart.”

Marianne blushed at what she decided to accept was a compliment. 

“It’s certainly a much more peaceful mission than what our other classmates are up to,” a voice said to them. “Contrary to popular belief, boredom doesn’t kill, unlike with what those poor suckers are gonna be dealing with.” The Golden Deer looked around in surprise at their new, disembodied voice. They discovered Claude sitting atop the carriage they were lagging.

“What?! That’s where you’ve been? And you didn’t tell me?!” A disgruntled Hilda hopped off Raphael’s back and began clambering up the back of the carriage, much to the Hanneman’s dismay who had been inside. Hilda situated herself next to Claude before continuing the conversation. “What are the other classes up to? I mean, it really can’t be worse than ours.”

“Well you aren’t completely wrong. The Black Eagles were assigned to some encampment in the Empire to train and what have you. But the Blue Lions? They were tasked to eliminate a group of bandits hiding out in the Red Canyon.”

“Woah. Really? Taking out bandits already? That’s crazy,” Raphael voiced, a look of amazement on his face.

“Granted, the Knights are obviously there to help if things get dicey,” Claude clarified, “but our friends are going to be in the thick of things for sure.” 

Marianne thought about the scenario. Tasked with dealing with a group of bandits so soon? She wondered at how terrifying it must be. Her and her classmates were well prepared to end bandits, of course, but taking lives, even those of bandits…

“I’m not too surprised, to be honest,” Leonie said to them. “I mean, Professor Byleth _is_ Jeralt’s son, so he’s pretty experienced. They probably trust his judgement a lot.” Several of them nodded at the fact that made the situation more sensible.

“A lot of them are also pretty tough, too, you gotta admit,” Raphael added. “Like, Dimitri is a pretty strong dude! Did you see the way he tore through barricades at the mock battle?”

Marianne’s head perked up slightly. 

“Dimitri?” 

Her heads classmates turned in her direction, and she realized she voiced her query aloud.

“Hm? Yeah, Dimitri,” Hilda picked up. “You know, the leader of the Lions with the noodle hair? Noble guy always followed by his tall bodyguard?”

She did know, in fact. She picked up his name from the others from watching him in the mock battle. She was surprised to see the same boy from the Library take to the field that day and was even more shocked to discover he was not only the house leader, but the very same prince to Faerghus. His dominating aura she felt back then made sense. 

Claude, curious to her reaction, called out to her. “You know something about our resident prince, there, Marianne?”

She shrunk at the question, glancing at Claude who looked like he knew more than he let on, a defining, irritable trait of his. 

“N-no, not really. I just ran into him once. Nothing notable, honestly.”

Claude, looking too pleased with himself, shrugged his shoulders. 

“Well, his lanceliness is certainly a character, I’ll say that.” Unsure of how to respond, she simply nodded.

Her answer wasn’t exactly a lie, she reconciled with herself. That meeting mostly consisted of her mumbling and apologizing. Nearly a month had passed. Their encounter should have been nothing more than a one-off memory. 

It should be, she thought. 

It wasn’t.

It didn’t occupy her mind constantly, of course, but any chance sightings or mentions of the prince had brought their run in to the forefront of her mind. Something about it just didn’t let her be done with it so easily. 

Still, whatever it was, she was sure to move on eventually. She and the prince just weren’t in the same class of status or in situations for it to matter.

While they walked the path that parted the plains, however, Marianne lagged a little behind to have a moment for herself.

_Fighting bandits…_

She gave them a silent prayer, asking the Goddess for their safety.

* * *

**_ 10:50 p.m. on the 31st day of the Harpstring Moon, 1180.  _ **

His class returned earlier from their Red Canyon excursion, though still late. The mission was successful. His friends were safe. 

Saying they were unscathed would be a lie.

He has seen death up close. He has been as close to the Reaper’s embrace more than anyone could possibly know. Yet he was ungratefully snatched from that scythe, and, in turn, he delivered that death instead.

That did not make the killing any easier. 

They were bandits, but they were still human. _They brought it upon themselves_ was what they thought to cope. No one in the class was spared from extinguishing the flame of life.

Some were better off. His childhood friends were no strangers to the reality of death. They dragged themselves through it looking as numb as they felt. It was their duty, as Ingrid or Dedue would put it.

Ashe was expressionless, stoic but colorless. It was the face of one experiencing the truth of what they dreamed of for the first time. He would not quit, but now, he knew. 

Annette lived off the adrenaline of the battle, but when that flood of bodily courage drained out of her, she was not the same, bubbly girl she had purported herself to be. She would return lively again, but inexplicably changed.

Mercedes… 

Dimitri sighed. She was the reason he was seeing the professor this late.

The older girl performed excellently as their healer, but the professor’s earlier concerns had proven themselves true. The Lions were too foolhardy with their chivalric nature ingrained in their blood by their culture. Dimitri never stopped attacking with the healing magic at his disposal. But eventually, the resource faded. Mercedes had exhausted herself for them, looking indescribably pallid near the battle’s end. 

If not for the professor, the bandit swinging for her head would have succeeded. Vulneraries fixed her up, and she apologized for her “inattentiveness,” she called it. She tried to laugh it off. They all did. But when he and his classmates marched back to Garreg Mach, their eyes meeting one another’s confirming that unspoken feeling, they knew.

One of them almost died. They were lucky.

Dimitri knocked on the door to the Professor’s room. “Enter,” was the command he heard that made him push away the barrier. He found the man sitting at his desk writing and scratching away at whatever work was needed of him. His teacher signaled him to take the seat next to the door. 

“Dimitri,” he said. “What can I help you with?”

The professor was an intuitive man, Dimitri had learned. The professor already knew what this was about.

“I just wanted to talk about our mission today, if that’s alright with you.” 

The older man tilted his head to the side. He looked at Dimitri, evaluating him, perhaps. For what, the prince did not know, but he let the man stare. 

“You all performed exceptionally well, today,” his professor commented suddenly, “The Knights thought so as well.” 

It was idle chatter. Dimitri waited. 

“...you and your classmates took to real combat admirably. They’re shaken up, some of them. But they’ll be fine.” 

He shook his head. The professor was being purposely ignorant. He waited.

“Dimitri.” 

The prince angled up to look the professor in the eye.

“Everyone’s safe. Nobody died.”

“Somebody almost did,” he finally burst out, spitting the words out with impatient venom. 

“That’s not what’s important.”

“But is it not true?! What happened out there, was it not because of us?” He bore into the professor, challenging him. The man, as always, looked unemotional. How could he still be after today?

The professor’s muteness was becoming aggravating. He stared back at the Dimitri, unintimidated. 

“Dimitri. Sit back down.”

Dimitri was panting, realized. Like a switch turned back on, his perspective was alighted. He was standing. He probably shot out of his seat during his outburst. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath and seated. Regret lanced through him.

“Professor…please, forgive my foolishness. I…that was unbecoming of me. Especially towards you.” 

“It’s okay,” he stated setting off another bout of tense stillness.

The prince could only look to his feet in embarrassment, afraid of what his professor must be thinking of him now. 

The man, still observing him, spoke. “Sometimes the path you take to get somewhere contains unforeseen consequences, but you arrive at your destination all the same. Not all of it was perfect, but everyone came back alive. That’s a victory you should be proud to take.”

The prince listened. “Even if one of us almost met our end…? Do we accept it still?”

“Especially so. That means they survived.”

Everyone did come back safe. Injured and bruised, but healed and safe. Despite what happened with Mercedes, she was alive. 

He accepted that. 

The professor, seeing his student still vying with his thoughts, informed him of a recent development. 

“I’ve been informed that I can request interhouse assistance if I desired to. I have no one in mind, but another practitioner in faith magic will help ease the burden on Mercedes and benefit our unit. It would help us.” 

It was an interesting approach. Another dedicated healer would rectify many things even if they were not of the Blue Lion house. He could live with that. Unfortunately, he was not in the headspace to think of a suitable candidate.

“I think that’s a fine idea,” he muttered. His head was still too clouded. 

There was a lull in their conversation. The professor returned to his notes leaving Dimitri to his thoughts. He let his emotions overtake him, and he worked to contain them overflowing. 

The situation today had reminded him of situations in the past. The feeling of helplessness and being unable to prevent death…it was intolerable for Dimitri. 

He vowed to never let it happen again, and yet, it had snuck up on him again. Maybe the Goddess placed it as another reminder of how much he still needed to grow. 

He needed much more than what he could do if he was to please them.

He quietly lifted himself from his chair and reached for the doorknob. “Thank you for seeing me, professor. I am…sorry again for how I conducted myself. I greatly appreciate your guidance. Good night.” He was one foot out of the room before he was called out to. 

“Dimitri.” 

The prince stopped. 

“I know I said that recklessness can get you killed. It’s still true. But I think I forgot to tell you…when it happens, I’ll be there to save you. With how you all are, if it’s not me, someone else always will be. That’s what makes you all exceptional.”

He looked back towards the professor, shocked to hear such words come from him. There was no change in his lips or his eyes…but there was something caring about the expression now.

Dimitri smiled.

“Thank you, professor.” 

  
  
  


Everything felt more intensified at night, Dimitri mused as he made his way back to his room. His head was abuzz with an ample amount of thoughts fit for several men. He dragged his feet like his mind was weighing him down, the storm of emotions wracking his brain. 

With all things considered, today had been a success. The bandits were cleared, and their actions were praised. But the possibility that they could have lost someone so soon and so easily affected him more than he would admit. 

He stepped his way to the dorms slowly. It must be almost midnight by now. He nearly turned at the Greenhouse towards the stairs leading to the second floor when he noticed a flicker of movement, shadows shifting strangely off the pond water. He looked in the direction of the dock but saw it empty. He assumed it was just a trick of the light when he heard a strange sound akin to sloshing and pouring water. He made his way to the fishing stand and discovered someone that had been hidden behind it. They were kneeling at the edge with a bucket, filling it with water then swirling the contents around before dumping it back out. 

He didn’t know what to make of the sight. 

“...Uh-”

“Ah!”

The figure jumped away from him and shrieked. He stumbled back in surprise and bumped into the fishing stand causing several fishing rods leaning against it to tip themselves onto Dimitri. He shielded himself from the cascade of poles beating against him. They clattered onto the ground unceremoniously. He lowered his shielding arm and stared at the mess.

“That’s…not how I expected that to go, ” was all he could find appropriate to say. 

The other participant, however, was clambering over themselves and shot straight towards the fallen rods. 

“No, no, no…I’m sorry, just give me a second, I can fix this right away,” he heard them mumble through their panicked breathing.

“It’s quite alright,” he assured them. He knelt with them. “I think I deserve to assist you, as well. I did sneak up on you.”

“No, please, this is all my fault, I couldn’t possibly-”

Dimitri looked up to calm the other person and found himself face-to-face with Marianne von Edmund. 

He quietly gasped at her sudden appearance, the mysterious person he had seen so little of now right here in front of him. She looked equally stunned, her eyes wide and the words she meant to speak lost off the tip of her tongue. 

What was she doing? Is this how they meet again?

He was gawking at her, an embarrassing thing if she too was not looking at him, mouth slightly agape. 

He was very close to her face, a happenstance resulting from their predicament. The moon was too his back meaning that it shone fully over her.

She was the same person he remembers seeing. Blue hair, pale skin, and dark circles that covered the area beneath those ash-gray eyes. 

They were staring at each other. 

Why was he staring? 

He did his best to return to sifted away the fishing rods. 

After a few moments, she did so as well. 

That’s how the night progressed for them, then, two students working and untangling lines on the hard ground within the discomfort of an awkward silence. 

He tediously picked away at the tangled wires. He tried to distract himself from the _obvious_ issue at hand.

_Who would put fishing poles together so haphazardly like this? A madman, that’s who. Don’t they know that putting them together like this is asking for a disaster? Surely the Monastery must hear of this and discipline the scoundrel who would commit such an act._

Though, try as he might, he couldn’t ignore Marianne diligently working across from him. 

He should probably ask her if she was okay. But, considering they were in this mess because of him, she probably didn’t want to hear his voice. 

Or maybe she was waiting for an apology? 

Why was he so difficult?

“...you shouldn’t be helping me.”

She was astonishingly quiet, and her voice barely contacted the world it echoed through. He found her looking at him, appearing noticeably distraught as if she had been caught committing an egregious act. She looked worn down, and her eyes becoming downcast. 

“It’s certainly no trouble for me,” he said in hopes of improving her mood. The way she looked was not one of comfort and joy.

“This is my fault,” she quietly said. The ease of how she spoke it suggested it was a phrase she had much practice in saying. “You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.”

“On the contrary, I did…surprise you. I didn't mean to cause such a shock.”

He reached for another tangled knot to show his intentions of remaining. 

She sighed and reached for another as well.

They spoke of nothing again, the only noise being their quiet breaths of irritation and exasperation at the stubbornness of the knots they battled. He reached for two clustered poles, Marianne’s hand meeting his there. She retracted hers almost instinctively, he felt. He looked and nodded to her to show there was no issue. The girl watched him.

“Um,” she noised trying to fill the air, “my name…it’s-”

“Marianne,” he finished involuntarily. 

When he noticed her looking at him with her eyes widened in slight alarm, it registered that she had never told him her name before.

“Oh, uh- …you see, Claude,” he sputtered, “he told me about you. The other day.” He did his best not to slap himself at how unusually inept he was right now. Luckily, Marianne seemed to accept the answer readily enough. “Uh, my name,” he said, or rather, stated as if he was giving her time to prepare. Another slap for another time. “My name is Dimitri. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.”

“Dimitri,” she whispered. His name was a different thing coming from her lips. Soundless yet full. It was soothing to hear.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he finally said. Her face hardened at hearing that, the statement appearing to physically irk her, but it softened immediately after. 

It was a strange instance she may have missed if he weren’t paying attention.

At least, she didn’t look so upset anymore. 

“Likewise, Dimitri.”

He placed the last of the rods against the stall, each one carefully spaced away and secured from each other to prevent another mistake. He rubbed his hands together and admired his handiwork.

“That should do it. Thank you for your help, Marianne.” 

She didn’t look particularly enthused.

“It’s nothing. I didn’t help much at all,” she said dejectedly. 

“Now, none of that. I imagine I’d be here all night without you.” She didn’t reply, but he assumed that didn’t mean she was convinced. “Is there a reason why you were out late?”

She walked over to the bucket she was holding earlier. “I was just cleaning this. I was feeding a…friend.”

“A friend?” The pocket could definitely hold large portions of…whatever food available. 

“Yes. A friend. He’s okay now.” She soundlessly placed the bucket back upon the stall. 

He was learning much about Marianne von Edmund tonight. He learned enough to grasp the surface identity. 

He was interested to see if there was more.

Dimitri exhaled a breath he had been holding since their work began. Unfortunately, he figured it was time to part ways, but he froze at the sight of Marianne examining him intently. He stopped, awkwardly.

“Is…is there a problem?” 

She was focusing on a certain part of his…face? The sullen girl stepped closer to him.

“I’m sorry, but now that the light is on you…there’s a cut on your cheek.” 

Was that it? He hadn’t felt anything. He let a finger smooth over the spot she looked at, his right cheek, and sure enough, he felt just the smallest separation of smooth traversal. It was a vertical marking on his cheek, but it was as shallow as it felt. There was no bleeding. 

“Hm. It seems you’re right,” he acknowledged while he inspected his glove for any signs of blood. “One of the hooks must have grazed me when they fell over. No worries, though, it’s a trivial wound. I can get patched up in my room.”

She reacted negatively, biting her bottom lip and squeezing her hands into tight fists.

“It was my fault. It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me.” 

This again. She was needlessly harsh on herself, he thought. It saddened him.

“Worry not, I assure you. It’s a shallow cut. No harm done.” 

She shook her head instead, and she slowly inched closer to him, every step a question to him asking if she could get closer. 

He didn’t object.

He was easily taller than her, he could now see. He peered down at her, Marianne looking fragile and gentle like some pale-blue flower. 

She raised her left hand, and it emanated a soft white light.

“Um, this won’t hurt. It’s just a small healing spell.”

With her whisper acknowledged by a slow nod of his head, she brought the glowing hand close to his cheek. 

The feeling was warm and numbing like all healing magic, but the magic wasn’t keeping his interest. Her eyes were slightly trained on his wound. The light of her spell illuminated more than any moonlight, and her face lit up solely from the soft glow of the curing aura. Her eyes, what he could make of them, held the same sadness intrinsic to her, but there was something else there now that wasn’t present before, something he wished he could see. Where had that been before? 

The picture in front of him was generating an unfamiliar feeling within him…

It was almost ethereal.

The light faded, and she took a step back away from him. Stirring out of his daze, he felt the spot where his cut marked him. Only smooth skin remained. 

“That should be it,” Marianne said. “I hope it wasn’t too unpleasant.”

Unpleasant?

“Hardly,” he voiced sounding far too breathless. “I…appreciate what you did.”

“It was nothing.” He wanted to object, but she was quickly bowing before him instead. “I’m sorry for taking so much of your time. Um, I’ll try to be more careful. Have a good night.”

He watched her walk away, leaving far too soon for him to properly respond. He didn’t try to follow her.

He remembered his mind being in disarray before he was interrupted by her appearance. It was tranquil now. He put a hand to his cheek one last time. 

All of what happened was…unusual? Strange? 

He didn’t know.

The image of her healing his cheek, the way it felt. Why was it different?

He didn’t know.

But, disregarding his own feelings, he did know one thing.

They needed another proficient healer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not good at this. This is going somewhere, I swear.
> 
> Also, I added time along with the dates this chapter to help set the scenes better. I'd appreciate any feedback on whether they're helpful or detract.


	4. Garland Moon (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing closer

**_ 9:47 p.m. on the 4th day of the Garland Moon, 1180 _ **

He sat alone, the emptiness of the large expanse of the Cathedral drowning him. His head was bowed in prayer.

Dimitri was a believer in the Goddess, somewhat. She existed. She watched over them. 

That was all.

It didn’t stop him from praying. It didn’t stop him from asking for forgiveness, nor did it stop him from wishing that the dead rest in peace. 

It also didn’t stop him from asking her questions. 

They had just received this month’s major assignment. A rebellion caused by a minor lord sowing chaos in his own Kingdom. Not only was the rebellion fruitless, something that would be squashed inevitably, but Lord Lonato was at the head of it. 

Dimitri knew Lonato was a good man, so why raise a sword with no hopes of winning at all? Why endanger lives in a senseless conflict?

He rubbed his face, the irritation and helplessness beginning to wear on him. They were to pick up the rear of the main force of knights and assist with the aftermath. Hopefully all conflict would be sorted by then.

He hoped for Lonato’s sake and theirs.

He heard approaching footsteps from behind him. The gray hair marked their approach, their downcast demeanor expressing heavy sadness. Dimitri went to comfort them.

“Ashe,” he called out. The young boy startlingly stood. 

“Your Highness,” the boy bowed with a notable lack of vigor. “I did not notice you were here as well. I apologize.”

“It’s fine, my friend. Come, sit.”

He gestured to the space next to him, and the archer complied, sitting wordlessly.

Dimitri knew this conflict would be weighing heavy on Ashe’s mind. Lonato had taken the place of a father figure to the boy. The lord was the reason Ashe was here, the kind boy would say proudly.

They sat together quietly. Ashe said no words, muttered no prayers. He stared at nothing in particular. Dimitri did the same, the topic at hand being too close to their hearts to broach. 

Finally, the small boy’s words, a wisp fitting into a single breath, sounded loud enough only for Dimitri’s ears.

“Why?”

A single word that carried too much for what it was. Sadness, anger, confusion, bitterness, they all were conveyed by Ashe’s utterance. It was a sentiment he knew all too well. 

“I don’t know, Ashe. I wish I could ease your heart.”

It was the only response he could give despite how useless it was. But Dimitri knew the pain the boy was harboring within him, the lack of understanding of why the events of his life were playing out in the mockingly cruel way that they were. He wanted to show solidarity in any way he could.

He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

Dimitri was a believer in the Goddess. No matter how bloody the world turned or how humanity’s petty quarrels fostered pointless bloodshed, the Goddess watched over them. 

And that was all. 

* * *

**_ 4:15 p.m. on the 9th day of the Garland Moon, 1180 _ **

“Hey. Marianne. What’d you get for the archery question?”

“Um, 47.7 degrees. I think.”

“Mmmm…yup, that looks right to me! Thanks!”

“Uh, I don’t know if it’s right. I could’ve calculated it wrong.”

“Nah, you’re pretty good at this stuff. It’ll be fine.”

Marianne had several reasons ready to fire off about how that was a false statement, but Hilda was already writing in her answer. They were working through assignments together in the blue-haired girl’s room, though Marianne felt that most of it consisted of her working in silence and Hilda asking for assistance. Hilda said she didn’t mind, but Marianne wished herself capable of being better company. 

The Goneril girl took Marianne “under her wing” according to their classmates, much to Marianne’s insistence that she need not to. Despite her protests, she would often be with Hilda, the older girl insisting that “that’s what friends do.”

Hilda was nice, at least. And, if Marianne was being truthful, she appreciated the company.

Someone started rapping on Marianne’s door, a series of knocks sounding off. Hilda was up in an instant, happy to be away from her work. 

“Ohh, who’s that, Marianne? Having visitors without me?” Marianne frowned. Who could it be? People hardly visit her in her room. 

The sound of the opening door was followed by the greeting of a certain professor. 

“Hello, Hilda,” the man said, monotone as ever. They have learned to accept it as that and not the professor expressing constant boredom. 

“Heyy, professor, what a surprise! How are you doing?”

“Fine. You?” 

“Oh, you know, working hard like any good student,” Hilda replied and exhaling a dramatic sigh. “Are you here to take me to that new restaurant place to reward me for such laborious work?”

“No.”

“Will you soon?”

“Maybe another time.” 

The answer was satisfactory enough for the procrastinator. “That better be a promise! I won’t forget!” Marianne couldn’t see, but she imagined the professor was still stony-faced. Hilda, in apparent satisfaction with herself, didn’t seem to mind. She continued. “So, is there a reason you’re here? I’m afraid I’m not able to assist with anything. Sore knees and stuff, you know?” 

There was a sigh there that Marianne could sympathize with.

“Nothing of that sort,” he started. “I’m actually here to speak with Marianne. Is she here?” She nearly dropped her quill pen at the mention of her name. 

Professor Byleth was here to see her? Why? Was she in trouble? Did he discover something about her and decide that it was time to-

“Oh, Marianne’s here!” her classmate declared. Hilda stepped aside, and Marianne and the professor’s gazes connected. 

She wondered if she looked as panicked as she felt. This wasn’t exactly the ideal scenario. 

“Um. Hi,” she managed to spit out. The professor turned towards Hilda. 

“Do you mind if I have a moment with her?”

Marianne looked at Hilda, terrified and hoping that her friend could sense it and act accordingly.

She did not. 

“Sure! I’ll be back as soon as you two are done, Marianne,” she sang out with a wink. 

She was gone, the door shutting and leaving her with the professor.

She sighed. She supposed she was doing this. 

The professor gestured to a chair for him to sit in, and she obliged. She turned her seat towards him, ready to start.

“Hello, professor,” she said. She decided to just get it out of the way. “Um… am I in trouble?” 

The man shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I just wanted to talk about something with you.” 

Relief flooded her systems. “Oh! Okay. What is it?”

The professor adjusted himself in his seat, an indicator that his explanation might be wordier than she expected. “As you know, I’m currently teaching the Blue Lion house for the Officer’s Academy. I’m sure you’ve met some of them.” 

Marianne nodded her head. She remembers seeing all of them at the mock battle and around monastery. 

She’s also been…acquainted with their house leader.

The ex-mercenary spoke again. “All of them are talented, but many of them prefer a…head on approach to battles. They’re hardy, but our healer, Mercedes, can’t care for them by herself, try as she might. It’s a difficult scenario.” Marianne tilted her head in confusion. 

“That does seem rather unfortunate,” she commented. “Forgive me for being confused, but what does this have to do with me?” 

Her question wasn’t met with an immediate answer. The professor waited as if he was reassessing his course of action. She was getting worried.

“I’ve spoken with Hanneman,” he finally began, slowly. “I’ve received his permission, and with your consent, I’d appreciate your assistance by accompanying us on some of our missions.” He looked at her blankly, waiting for an answer. She didn’t register the request. Or rather, her brain refused to register it.

“M-me?” she stammered, still getting over her initial shock.

“Yes. Another healer would be perfect for us and would allow better performance in general.” 

The timid student couldn’t hide her doubt. “Why- why me? Surely there must be better candidates. I’m…no good at all, unfortunately.” 

“I’m not so sure,” the man retorted. “Hanneman praised your proficiency in white magic. Your classmates were also quick to nominate your abilities.”

“That’s…” Why were they doing this? Did they not see? How could they place faith in her so easily? It was all so tiring. “I…don’t have much real battlefield experience,” she confessed in hopes of deterring him. 

“That’s fine. Hanneman has expressed that you all trained as close to real conditions as you possibly could with church soldiers. We have a small mission at the end of the week to rout some bandits. You’ll be by my side the entire time should you join.” 

She was unable to find a response. 

“You are the first person I’ve asked,” Byleth clarified. “However, my house leader has personally recommended you, and I trust his judgement. If he believes in you, I can as well”

Her head snapped up with her face still contorted in worry. “House leader?”

The professor nodded his head. 

She looked away. Dimitri recommended her? She hasn’t done anything but bother him every time they’ve met. She didn’t understand.

Her initial instincts were telling her to decline immediately. She couldn’t help. What could possibly add?

But further deliberation made herself stop. She didn’t understand why, but people had expectations for her. They were asking for her. Someone believed in her. What would they think if they propped her up only for her to turn away? And they were asking her to heal, to _save._ Isn’t that what she was here for? To help. To become better than what she was now? 

Maybe this was the opportunity to become more.

“...What will I need to do?”

* * *

**_ 11:13 a.m. on the 15th day of the Garland Moon, 1180 _ **

Dimitri watched Sylvain tap the butt of his lance against the ground halfheartedly. He let out a groan. “You know, when the professor says to be here by eleven, he’s usually here too. What gives?” 

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Sylvain,” Dimitri defended. “He’s probably just making some last-minute preparations.” Of course, Dimitri tried to hide his own concern. Usually the professor was precise with his orders. 

“If you say so… Hey, if two more minutes pass, we’ll be allowed to skip this whole thing. That’s a rule, right?” 

Ingrid casually stabbed an elbow in Sylvain’s ribs.

“If he wants to dally around fishing the entire day, then I say we just go on ahead,” Felix grumbled. 

“Now, now, Felix,” Mercedes cooed, “there’s no need for that. Must we really be so eager to cut down others?”

“When they’re pillaging villagers passing by, then I say yes,” Felix replied bluntly. That earned a reluctant, conceding nod from Mercedes.

“Whatever the reason, the professor certainly isn’t fishing,” Dedue chimed in. “I heard him complaining about lacking decent bait lately.”

“Oh, what if he’s out shopping for new bait, then?” Annette looked around for agreements.

“Eh, not likely,” Sylvain answered.

“Mmm, I don’t think that’s it, Annie.” 

“It’s possible, but it was just an offhand comment I heard him say,” Dedue admitted.

“It’s dumb.” 

“You’re dumb, Felix. Right, Ashe?”

The boy, who had been doing his best to avoid the conversation, shook under Felix’s sharp stare. “Um…I prefer to refrain from participating.” 

“Felix, put the sword away,” Ingrid ordered, slapping the boy on the shoulder. 

“Are you all ready?”

Dimitri thanked the higher powers as they all stood at attention at the sound of the professor’s voice. The Blue Lions looked to their tardy professor to find another student standing close to his side. Dimitri took in a breath. 

“My apologies for being late,” the professor said, slightly bowing. “I needed to work through some final paperwork to allow our assistant member to join us?” 

“Assistant member?” Felix asked. 

Professor Byleth took a slight step to his side to reveal the hiding girl. She gasped and shrunk into herself at the sudden stares trained on her. 

“This is Marianne von Edmund, a student of the Golden Deer house. Some of you might have met her.”

So, she accepted, Dimitri thought. He was pleased that she did so, but he wasn’t expecting the professor to wrangle her in immediately. He hoped his classmates were kind to her.

“Professor!” Sylvain exclaimed. “You shouldn’t have!” The philanderer, without hesitating, strode over to their new guest. He bowed deeply. “Hel _lo_ there, Marianne. My name is Sylvain Jose Gautier, and I just say it is an absolute pleasure that you would grace us with your presence- OW, wait!-” Ingrid dragged Sylvain behind her by the ear and smiled sweetly towards Marianne. 

“Sorry about him. I am Ingrid Brandl Galatea,” the blonde girl said, extending her other hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The gray-eyed girl, mortified, slowly reached for and shook her hand.

Dimitri sighed.

Annette and Ashe excitedly surrounded her, happily oblivious to her anxiety. Dedue moved from His Highness’ side to also join. 

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you, Marianne!” Annette chirped. “My name’s Annette! It’s nice to finally be acquainted! I’ve seen you here and there!”

Ashe nodded in agreement. “I’m glad to meet you! It’s nice to welcome some new to the class! I’m Ashe, and this is Dedue.”

“Hello,” the boy greeted, a hand to his chest. “It is a pleasure to welcome another ally to our ranks.”

“Oh, um, hi. Hello. Yes, it’s, um-”

Dimitri grimaced. She was getting overwhelmed.

Felix, not nearly as amused as his classmates, looked at the professor. “What’s she here for? I don’t recall hearing anything about needing more help.”

“She’s here to help Mercedes with healing some of the more _adventurous_ fighters in our group.” Felix narrowed his eyes in annoyance, the implications from the professor not lost on him. “With her help, missions should hopefully progress more smoothly and with less injuries.

Mercedes, pleased to hear the news, advanced towards the near cowering girl. The older woman subtly held Annette and Ashe back. “Oh my, another healer! I’m elated to meet you, Marianne! I’m Mercedes. It’s so nice to meet you!”

Much to Dimitri’s relief, Mercedes’ motherly aura seemed to calm even Marianne. The Golden Deer student visibly relaxed. 

“Oh. Um, hello. I’m glad to meet you- err, meet _all_ of you. I hope that I can be of some assistance.” 

Now under the watchful eyes of Mercedes, Marianne found herself able to listen to the excited chatter of Ashe and Annette. 

Sylvain, noticing the prince had been absent in the greetings, called him out. “Not going to say anything, Your Highness? It’s bad manners to not introduce yourself to a beautiful lady, you know.”

The talking stopped at Sylvain’s comment, the rest of them looking between Dimitri and Marianne. They were expecting him to speak.

Dimitri and Marianne shared a look. 

They shared an awkwardly long look.

“We’ve…already met,” he said. “Hello, Marianne. It’s good to see you.”

She shyly raised a hand in a wave.

Byleth cleared his throat, garnering his students’ attention. “If we’re finished, it’s time to go. Our battalions will meet us halfway there. Let’s head out.”

The Blue Lions grouped together and followed their professor, everyone falling into the routine of conversation. The new addition found herself in the middle of it. Dimitri, happy to see that they were taking to her well, smiled.

He trailed closely behind.

  
  
  


Marianne, after managing to slip away from the others’ attention under an argument between Ingrid and Felix, trailed behind the group. Her slowed steps brought her to pace next to him. Her head remained downcast. 

“Um…hello.” 

“Hello.” 

Dimitri watched her. She did nothing differently, but he sensed that she wanted to say something. Maybe he could help coax it out of her. 

“I hope the others are treating you fine.”

“They are. They seem to be good people. Energetic.”

“Ah. Yes. I’m glad to hear.”

“Yes…”

“Mhm.”

“...”

“...”

He did his best not to smack himself on the forehead. Why was he so bad at this? 

“I’m glad you accepted in helping us. I know I should’ve asked you personally before I brought you to the professor.”

“Oh, no. It’s fine. It’s just…”

“Hm?”

She was wringing her hands together. He didn’t like that he was making her so nervous.

“Why did you ask for me? I’m…not too good at what I do. I’m afraid I might disappoint.”

There was doubt in her voice, too much so that her voice quivered. She sounded afraid to ask for an answer like she knew what it was and that its confirmation was all she needed to affirm whatever preconceived notion she had about herself. 

Why did he ask for her? It wasn’t too difficult to say that she was the only healer he has spoken to outside of the Blue Lions. It was the truth. If anything, that was the preferable answer. But he knew there was more to it than that. 

“That night,” he answered. “You helped me. I appreciated it.”

“All I did was what I needed to do. I didn’t do much.”

“Perhaps you didn’t do much,” he said to her. “But you did do something. And that was enough.”

She wasn’t wrong. A little scratch on his cheek that would’ve healed over a day wasn’t anything noteworthy. But he didn’t forget the way she did it with that hidden, unknown resolve beneath her. A flash of determination buried under doubt and hesitance that sprang out when she healed. He couldn’t forget it. What powered that resolve? There was something special there, something that made her stand out to him. He couldn’t believe that she was as incapable as she thought. 

He refused to. 

* * *

**_ 1:32 p.m. on the 15th day of the Garland Moon, 1180 _ **

The battlefield, as she suspected, was as brutal as she expected. 

They were similar to the simulated battles with the church, but those were just that: fake imitations of the real thing. 

Nothing could accurately capture the essence of clashing steel with lives hanging in the balance of each strike. There was no true feeling that compared to hearing weapons digging into the flesh of men. 

There wasn’t anything like seeing a life end in front of your eyes.

She was prepared. They had made contact with the bandit troop. The marauders, having prepared themselves before they arrived, were stubbornly ready to defend. The bandits were outnumbered, but there were more than initially expected. The professor had her stay by his side and at the rear of their formation as the rest of the class advanced. “They’ll be fine. They have the experience,” he said. 

Everything progressed how she expected. Battle cries, the sounds of weapons unsheathing, and the adrenaline coursing through the veins of every willing participant in the carnage, all of it was something she was ready to face. 

But when Felix’s blade sliced through the first assaulter, a flourish of blood taking to the sky and painting the green grass beneath them red, she faltered. The bandit fell, and they moved on to the next, the dying man left to pass in his own blood.

Her stomach churned, and her own veins froze. Was that what death was? Swift and painful? Uncaring, the world continuing as if you never really mattered? 

Is _this_ what she has been wishing for? 

The professor gripped her shoulder and lightly shook her. His usually bland expression was more hardened. His wordless glance asked her if she was okay. She nodded.

She took a deep breath and kept her concentration on her allies. She steeled herself. 

If she wanted to rise above, battle was an evil she must get used to. 

Sylvain had engaged a pair of bandits by himself. He cut down one with ease with his lance, but the other already swung before Sylvain could fully reestablish himself. In the nick of time, he narrowly avoided a full-on hit, but the axe head grazed his shoulder. Growling, the Gautier heir drove his lance through the gut of his assailant and pulled it out in gruesome fashion. Witness to all of it, Marianne casted a long-range healing spell, the glow of white magic enveloping her comrade’s shoulder and dispelling the wound within seconds. Sylvain looked for the source and saluted her with a suave grin on his face before he turned and continued. She wondered if he was always like that. 

Felix was nearly a blur in combat, his sword swings a dazzling display of precision and power. He had felled several bandits on his lonesome before he dragged himself before her. He was covered in cuts and bruises but a long laceration on his left arm demanded immediate attention. She shut her eyes in focus and worked to seal his wounds, the only evidence left of the gash being irritated, but closed red skin. He nodded to her in approval and left as quickly as he arrived, the world not granting them a moment of reprieve.

And so, the battle continued as such as she fell into a routine of healing when needed, watching and scouting for any possible wounded that were within her line of vision. She healed Ashe’s bruises, fixed Dedue’s bleeding head, and worked with Mercedes to keep everyone on their feet at all times. Even with all the bloodshed and death, she didn’t waver in her duty. Her allies needed that much. 

The bandits’ numbers thinned, and the sounds of confrontation lessened throughout the area. Her teammates were all alive, many of them clearing up the last of what remained. Without any immediate pressure forcing her to pay attention, she took stock of herself. She was panting heavily. How long had it been? She was drained of energy yet the whole skirmish couldn’t have lasted more than ten minutes. She managed to find Mercedes diligently checking the others. She, too, was showing signs of fatigue, but she was still capable of working. If she tried hard enough, Marianne could as well. 

The professor would be pleased.

Her allies disappeared over the hill, and the professor moved forward, urging her to follow. “It’s almost done. Let’s finish this.” 

She grit his teeth for the final stretch and joined him. 

They passed over the hilltop to find the rest of the Lions finishing the remnants of the outlaws. The lack of enemies allowed her to get as close to the frontlines as she could. She moved past the bodies strewn about, bandits covered in piercing wounds from lances and arrows or from the intense lacerations left from wind magic or axe heads. The sight made her blanch, but she didn’t stop.

_Goddess…save their souls._

The professor held out a hand and stopped her, the pair halting at the outskirts of a final confrontation. A grizzled man surrounded by his henchmen were making a last stand. 

“Wait here,” was all the man ordered as he gripped his own sword and advanced to help. She watched him join them, and she finally doubled over, hands on her knees. 

The bandit leader would fall soon. Mercedes, still standing, watched over those engaged in combat. Everything was a success, but as flashes of the dead she had passed battered her memory, she felt it was anything but. 

They were running now, the last of the brigands accepting the inevitable and hoping to escape with their lives. She saw Dimitri and his vassal standing by, watching those fleeing for their lives. They spoke to each other, and though she couldn’t hear, Dimitri’s shaking head and inspection of himself suggested that he was showing he was clear of any wounds to his friend. Many of the Lions were still now, surveying whatever remained. It seemed the battle was over. 

The tiniest flicker of changing colors in the distance caught Marianne’s attention. Near Dimitri and Dedue, the edge of the forest’s trees rattled. Her eyes widened when a lone brigand stepped out, his sights set firmly on the unaware duo. 

She frantically looked around to see if anyone was going to aid them. Sylvain and Felix were too far away. Ingrid was tending to some small scratches with a vulnerary. The professor was nowhere near. Everyone else was preoccupied.

Her breathing picked up. The two young men were oblivious to the sneaking assassin encroaching upon them. 

She had to be quick, and she couldn’t hesitate. She let the instincts of her hours of training take over, focusing her energy into one saving spell. She clenched her teeth. 

The bandit withdrew a harsh axe from his back, its blade drenched in poison. His two victims hadn’t seen him, and he grinned maniacally. He aimed for the big one first. The blonde one could die later. With a final battle cry, he charged them, his weapon high above his head and ready to cleave the tall one in two. They both turned in surprise, the suddenness leaving them stunned. They were at his mercy.

Marianne let loose the thoron spell that crackled and shot straight through the sky and through the bandit. He flew in the direction of the beam, his body rag dolling. It tumbled to a stop, a smoking, gaping wound through its chest.

Her hands were outstretched, stuck in the position of the last motion she used to fire the spell. Her eyes zeroed in on the corpse she just created. 

Dimitri and Dedue were staring at her. All the students were.

She tried to lower her arms. The breath she took in was shuddering. It wasn’t just the breath. Her hands were trembling terribly. 

A presence made its way next to her. A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. 

“Hey,” the professor called. “It’s over. You did good. Take a breath.”

She did as she was told, but her eyes didn’t leave what was left of the brigand’s body. She didn’t stop shaking.

* * *

**_ 10:11 p.m. on the 15th day of the Garland Moon, 1180 _ **

Dimitri knew she had to be here. From what he knew of her, it was the only suitable place. 

He cringed at his echoing footsteps. The Cathedral surely didn’t allow for stealth. If she was here, he wouldn’t frighten her at least. 

His eyes went to the front pews. As expected, the light-blue hair he wanted to find was there. Marianne stood, head down and hands clasped. He “quietly” went to her. 

Her eyes were closed, and her lips moved in wordless prayer. The girl didn’t turn as he stood next to her. That was fine. 

She isolated herself the entire march back to the monastery after the battle. Most of them gave her the space. There wasn’t any conversation about what happened, but they all inferred that she wasn’t in the headspace to converse. The only times she spoke was to the professor and to Mercedes who had managed to hold the girl in a silent embrace on the latter half of their trip back. 

He bowed his head in prayer as well as he waited. Or, he tried to, but his self-scolding took over his thoughts instead. Dimitri had been furious with himself that he hadn’t heard the approaching bandit. Not only because he was _supposed_ to be better than that, but because it endangered his friend’s life. Dedue was the original target he deduced from the direction the bandit came at them. The young man insisted that he was at fault for failing to adequately protect him from the threat. 

Dimitri ignored it. He should’ve done better. 

He didn’t know how to feel about Marianne’s predicament. She had done wonderfully as their healer. Mercedes not being an exhausted mess showed that. But, according to the professor, today had been her first real battle. And from her reaction to today’s events, he assumed that she had taken her first life today as well. How do you tackle such a thing?

“Dimitri,” he heard. Marianne hadn’t moved. Her eyes were still closed. 

“Marianne. It’s good to see you.”

“Do you need something?” she asked. Her voice sounded noticeably more detached, a tone that could clutch the heart of anyone. He wanted to comfort her, somehow, but he never was a man of words. Not like his friends who supported him. Not like his father. 

“I…wanted to see how you’re feeling, I suppose. About today.” 

He heard her breath in, a preparatory action. Maybe she was expecting this. But despite his anticipation, her reply was sparse. 

“I’m fine.” She was hushed, and her stilted way of saying so didn’t inspire confidence. He frowned. 

What was he to do? It was obvious that she was struggling with today’s events, but she was a reserved person. Was it fair of him to force her to speak of what she would rather leave in the wind? Was it right to let her wrestle with her thoughts alone? 

Alone. He remembers spending sleepless nights with only his own thoughts keeping him company. It was unpleasant, to say the least. But he knew that imposing upon someone only served to widen the gap between. 

Never grab but extend a hand. It was the only thing he could do.

“Marianne…” he said, testing the waters. “I won’t…foist dialogue upon you. You’re allowed to choose your own peace. But…I’ll be here, should you need someone to confide in. It’s the least I could do for a friend.” 

Were they friends? They’ve spoken very little, the number of times they’ve been together feasibly countable on one hand, probably. The word slipped out of his mouth, however, and he felt he had an answer.

They might not be friends, but he would like to be.

She didn’t say anything, instead letting the stillness take over. But, to Dimitri’s surprise, the quiet felt much more tolerable. Something about her changed, somehow. Perhaps it was because her shoulders were no longer tense or how it felt like she wasn’t afraid of his presence for the first time. Whatever the case, the silence didn’t make him worry like it did a few moments ago. 

In fact, it was soothing. 

He gently sat down on the pew doing his best not to make the aged wooden thing creak. Marianne followed suit. He didn’t look at her to reassure her that her agency was her own. She whispered to him. 

“So much violence…is it something you get used to?” There was resignation in her voice. Dimitri knew the feeling. 

“Violence is something that comes with the opportunity to generate more peace, I’ve accepted. Ironic, I know. But when the only option to protect others is to fight those that threaten them, I’d rather take up arms than let savagery fester.” It was something he had come to terms with long ago when he had first picked up a sword. Harmony is a treasure that must be conserved, and discord may be the only way to preserve it when all else fails. 

“I see…” she muttered. “I’m not…truly haunted by what I saw, or what I did to that man. To safeguard those I must protect, I accepted that it was something I must do, something I will continue to do. But for life to end so…abruptly. To _end_ it so easily…I can’t let go of the pain of the fact. I don’t think I will ever be desensitized to it.” 

Dimitri was surprised to hear hints of anger in her voice, the first time he’s associated the emotion with the reserved girl. He didn’t fault her for it. The reality of battle was a cruel one. No one should accept it so easily.

“I understand what you mean, Marianne. The act of killing, no matter the reason…it’s an unenviable act.”

“It is. I don’t wish to kill ever again, but I know that there will be countless more times that I’ll be forced into a position to do so. The thought of doing so…it makes me feel monstrous.”

He had it. The crux of the issue. 

“Marianne. You know that’s not true.”

She let out a noise of disagreement. “What do you mean?” 

“I think for us, killing itself isn’t what makes us monsters.” he says to her. “It’s the thought behind every action, the feeling you get from your consequences that make you so.”

“I…don’t understand.”

“Don’t you see? You don’t wish to kill. You’re repulsed by the idea. Your heart is too kind for the actions you must take. That’s not a symbol of barbarity. It’s compassion. I feel true monsters wouldn’t feel remorse, don’t you think?” 

She eyed him, then, and Dimitri turned to meet her gaze. She seemed perplexed at his rationale, but her feelings didn’t change how he felt about what he said. Staring into those gray wells of sorrow and empathy, he couldn’t possibly think that the person in front of him was a monster. 

“Of course, that’s what I believe,” he finished. “If anything, your empathy brings you far away from monstrous. It makes you human.” 

He heard a foreign sound come out of her, a sound he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint if he were not looking at her. The smallest, faintest signs of upturned lips were on her face. The laugh that escaped her was brief and fleeting, too short for how sweet it sounded. But it was there, and he heard it. And with the smallest of smiles that graced her features, he saw it, too. 

They were lovely things, he thought to himself.

“Human?” she said, her dubious tone mingling with a lighter, airier tone that made her sound both amused and content. “You have an interesting way of thinking, Dimitri.”

He looked away. “Um- yes. I suppose so… ” It must’ve been the air in the Cathedral that suddenly spiked in suitable temperature that made his face a bit flusher. Marianne, her eyes closed in thought, did not bear witness to him, thankfully.

They sat there, then, in the comfortable silence that Dimitri was beginning to enjoy. He may not have solved whatever truly plagued her, but as he observed her face one last time, the tormented thing appearing much more at ease than he has usually seen it, he accepted that he did the best that he could. 

And hopefully, that was enough for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been very difficult to write. So much I want to get to so I split it into two parts. I think things are starting to catch up to me, so expect less frequent updates, maybe.
> 
> Also, thanks for everyone that's still reading! I appreciate it always


	5. Garland Moon (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remembering what we are.

**_ 12:00 p.m. on the 29th day of the Garland Moon, 1180 _ **

“Hey, Marianne. You sure you don’t want any of this stuff? It’s tasty!”

“Um. I’m fine, thank you.”

Raphael, preparing to shovel the meat pie into his mouth, shrugged. “Alright, but I offered!”

Usually she elected to eat by herself, but at Hilda’s insistence, Marianne found herself within a Golden Deer lunch. She didn’t mind as much as she would have a month ago. Her classmates were kind. She was growing to appreciate them, even if they had their unusual quirks.

“Um, Lysithea. Are you sure you should be eating those hard candies before your salad?”

“What? There is nothing wrong with having a preparatory snack before eating disgusting- err, disgustingly good greens. Mind your own business, Hilda!”

“Claude! When you said you would hear my thoughts on our performance in training today, I expected you to _listen!_ ”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. You did great, Lorenz, really killed it out there. Could’ve done better with the javelin throwing, though. Right, Ignatz?”

“Huh?! What?”

"Claude, do not avoid me!”

“Eh, he’s right. You could’ve done better.”

“Wha- Leonie!”

_Even if they had their unusual quirks,_ she reminded herself. She took in another spoonful of her soup. 

Despite their rowdiness, her classmates were certainly fun to be around. 

She supposed she could do this more. 

Claude, after sitting through Lorenz’s scolding, cleared his throat dramatically before placing his palms on the table. He leaned in towards her. “So. Marianne. I finally get to ask you about what’s been on my mind.”

“Oh? What is it, Claude?”

“Ah, come on. You know what I mean.” To further his point, he leaned a bit to his side to reveal the people behind him. The Blue Lions were animatedly dining in their own space. “How have the little lions been treating you? Any juicy details to share?”

“Oh, yeah!” Hilda exclaimed. “The professor asking for your help was pretty cool! What’s been going on over there?”

She looked at the Faerghus class, mulling over them. They’ve been extraordinarily accepting of her ever since her first mission. They’ve made their gratefulness to her skills known, much to her embarrassment. She had also spent much of her time recently with them as a result of her situation. She knew them all well enough to at least greet them by name, confidently.

Her own classmates waited for her to speak, curious over their rival class.

“They’re good people,” she stated plainly. “I do what I can so they can fight better.”

There was a bout of silence.

“Uh, yeah, that’s not what we want,” Leonie said, unimpressed. “What’re they like? Strong? Weak? Are they better than us?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. They have their own strengths.”

Lorenz let out an amused noise. “Hmph. It’s okay Marianne. It is fine to admit that we are more skilled. It’s the truth, is it not?”

“Uh. Well-”

“They did win the mock battle, though,” Ignatz admitted thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, but we’re stronger now! My muscles have only gotten bigger!”

“Surely none of them have improved more than me, of course,” Lysithea declared.

  
The rest of the Golden Deer became engaged in spirited conversation of their development and superiority. Claude shrugged, not intending for the conversation to veer the way it had. 

“Well, I’m glad they’re taking to you well. Would hate to have to spike a couple beverages, you know?”

She cringed. “Please don’t.”

“Kidding, of course,” Claude clarified disingenuously. 

Hilda playfully leaned against Marianne. “Well, I’m not. If they hurt you, Marianne, let me know, and I’ll personally enlist someone else to teach them a lesson.”

She was starting to worry if she was endangering the Blue Lions.

Claude curiously looked back towards the other class as if to evaluate them before turning back to Marianne. “Huh. A pretty lively bunch despite their mission tomorrow,” he noted.

Marianne furrowed her brow at the boy’s vagueness. “What do you mean?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know? They’re going off to quell that rebellion in Faerghus started by some 'Lord Lonato.' Or, what should be left of it, anyway.”

“Yeah," Hilda suddenly interjected, "and I heard that Lord Lonato guy was the one who sent Ashe to the Officer’s Academy.”

Claude nodded in confirmation. “Yup. He’s his adoptive father. He’s also amicable acquaintances with the prince, too.”

Marianne frowned at the sudden new information. This was news to her. “I wasn’t aware of such things. They never told me.”

Claude sighed. “I’m not surprised. Don’t take it personally, though. Those Kingdom kids are all about their chivalry, you know? They’re probably holding whatever they’re thinking inside to focus on their ‘duty.’ Pretty rough situation, if you ask me. Still, you gotta wonder why a minor lord would raise such an unwinnable conflict. There’s more to it, I’m sure…”

She let the boy muse to himself. She checked over the Blue Lions again. Ashe didn’t look particularly bothered, but now that she observed him, he wasn’t as enthusiastic as he usually appeared. 

Another fruitless conflict that threatened to sever more bonds. Why did the world work in such a way?

She hated it.

Claude let out a thoughtful sigh. “Well, whatever the case, you be safe out there when you’re with them, you hear?”

Slightly touched by the kindness, she responded. “Of course, Claude. I’ll do my best.”

“Good!” he let out, a cheeky smile taking over his face. “And hey, you tell the prince that he and his friends better watch themselves with you, or he’ll have to answer to all of us. Got it?”

Marianne looked to Dimitri, the young man sitting and watching his friends, amusement plain on his face. Truthfully, ever since that night in the Cathedral, she found his presence to be a comforting anchor when she worked with their class. Not because she could speak freely with him, but because she didn't have to. They said what they needed to say and if that was all, they could stay together in silence. He let her speak, and he let her be, and she did the same. 

It allowed her to relax.

She mulled over Claude's words again and his concern for her safety when she was amongst the Blue Lion house.

She didn’t think she had anything to worry about on that front.

“I will.”

* * *

**_ 1:07 p.m. on the 30th day of the Garland Moon, 1180 _ **

The damp ground beneath him gave way to his heavy feet, every step sliding a bit more than he intended. He sighed as he fixed his footing to avoid more mud from allocating within the grooves of his boots. He knew the mission would be unpleasant, but he expected more on the emotional front, not the physical one. The cloudy sky created a dreary atmosphere, and the beginnings of a suffocating fog were enclosing upon them. 

At least the weather reflected his feelings, he thought.

They all marched together, the class and the battalions of soldiers close to the site of Lonato’s rebellion now. They were to only help and work away whatever was left. There was little chance of fighting, a small grace they were thankfully gifted. 

It still didn’t wholly clear his storming thoughts. 

He looked around to Ashe to check on him. He had been as stoic as Dimitri had seen him since the year started. It was no surprise, of course. Within the next few hours, the boy would learn whether his father had been arrested or killed for his attempts to incite an uprising. Either result would leave Ashe with one less family member. 

_How despicable._

Dimitri shook his head in hopes of shaking away the negative vibes. There had to be some silver linings. They did get to work in the company of the distinguished knight, Catherine. Perhaps she could bestow some wisdom upon them. Also, despite the dreadful clouds and thickening fog, Mother Nature hadn’t cursed them with rainfall. It wasn’t so bad.

He let out a disgruntled utterance.

Today was a bad day. He recomposed himself and set his head back high. It was better to just accept the fact and face it head-on than pretend it didn’t exist. 

He took report of his allies’ situations. Many of them seem unhindered. The professor and Catherine led the way with Ashe quietly stalking their heels. The others were a mix of carefully watching their surroundings or chatting amongst themselves. Dedue stayed glued to his side, the boy as watchful as ever.

His eyes eventually settled on the end of their march to the convoy, a young woman walking along by herself. His brow furrowed. 

He could easily leave her alone and save himself some unwanted embarrassment, but his responsibility as house leader did include the duty of checking in on his fellow peers.

That’s what he told himself, anyway.

“Dedue. I’m going to the back to look up on…things. Equipment. I’ll be back.”

“Very well," his guardian said, moving to follow him. "Let me accompany you then.”

“Don’t worry, Dedue,” Dimitri said. He held him in place. “Please, stay here.”

His friend frowned like he always did when Dimitri insisted that he need not accompany him, but he relented all the same. The boy let loose a sigh. “Very well, Your Highness.” 

Dimitri patted his friend on the back.

He looked back and slowed his gait letting everyone pass him by. He positioned himself to where Marianne began to walk beside. She looked up at him in mild surprise.

“Hm? Hello, Dimitri. How are you?”

“I’ve had better days, I must confess,” he admitted. “How are you faring?”

“About as well as I can,” she answered. “It’s hard to keep high spirits when things look as gray as they are right now.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He took stock of their surroundings again. It looked like the fog was getting worse. “Still, we would do well to be our best if we can. Come to us if you need any assistance. You are the one helping us with Kingdom related matters, after all”

“Mm.”

They walked beside each other in silence. He liked it. He found that ever since their night in the Cathedral, there was an understanding that words weren’t needed to communicate their fellowship, whatever it was. Awkward air and uncomfortable tension didn’t take between the two as much as it once did.

That didn’t mean they were immune anymore, of course.

“Um, about Lonato…” she began saying. “I heard about his relation. To Ashe, I mean.” 

His mood darkened. He shouldn’t be surprised. Word made its way around the students astonishingly fast, but he made a point not to mention it to her. Not because of any ill will, but because he liked to avoid conversations like these.

“I see. Yes, Lonato is Ashe’s adoptive father.”

“The situation is truly unfathomable… I'm sorry it's come to work out like this.”

“Indeed…” He tried not to let the topic sour his expression, but she noticed it all the same. She sighed in irritation at herself.

“Please, forgive me. I should’ve kept my thoughts to myself.”

“It’s not your fault,” he quickly reassured her, a habit he picked up to make sure she didn’t scourge herself more than necessary. “This conflict truly is woeful. My only hope is that we all get through it safe and sound.”

She nodded in agreement but looked away. Her face looked contemplative as her eyes examined the dirt beneath her. She spoke, her words a bit more hushed. “May I ask you a question…?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Of course. Ask away.”

Fittingly, she didn't say anything. Immediately, anyway. Marianne stayed silent, and Dimitri could only assume it was because she was debating whether she should voice her query or not. 

It certainly made him wait with growing anticipation.

She finally spoke, her gaze fixed straight ahead of them. “How…how do you feel about all of this? Are you…fine, Dimitri?”

Oh. 

He tried to hide his surprise with a cough. He wasn’t expecting the question to focus on him, nor was he expecting it to be about what he didn’t want to discuss.

How did he feel? Angry, of course. More for Ashe than himself. He suspected that wasn’t what she was asking for exactly, however. 

“I’m…saddened. Lonato was a good man. I simply refuse to believe he would do something so drastic were he not so motivated by whatever he believed. That’s what I like to think, anyway. That's what makes our call to action so regrettable.” He breathed in deeply, a moment of pause for her and himself. “Whatever the case may be, as the future ruler of the Holy Kingdom, I am sworn to see through all conflict in my domain and to solve them however I may. I just wish that we can come to a point where conflicts like these can be ended through peaceful means instead of needless bloodshed. A silly notion, perhaps…but that’s what I hope for.” 

It was his turn to stare at his feet. A world where words reigned over swords, where the need for life triumphed over the calls for death. He imagined such a world. Such lofty, unattainable ideals. He laughed at himself, a person like _him_ wishing for peace. But it was what he believed.

If only he was a man capable of achieving such things.

Marianne, for what it was worth, didn’t laugh at him or questioned what he said. She simply said to him what she thought in that quiet, serious way for when her words carried more gravitas than normal.

“You have a caring heart, Dimitri.”

The words resounded through his bones. 

A caring heart. He had been told such a thing when times were younger. 

Did it still apply to a person such as himself?

He didn’t word his thanks, but the small smile he allowed himself to express hopefully made Marianne aware.

They were close to their destination, from what he could tell. The fog didn’t look to be lifting anytime soon. 

“I’m going to speak with the professor,” he told Marianne. “We’re close to where we need to be. I need to get orders from him soon.”

The girl nodded. “Of course.”

“Hopefully this mission ends without any intervention from us. An easy mission would do us some good, wouldn’t it?”

He attempted to bring some levity, but Marianne’s expression was pensive. “It would. We can only hope.”

Ominous, he thought, but maybe it was just him. He walked towards the front of the march, waving to her. “I’ll see you soon, Marianne.”

“Likewise.”

He stepped faster, slowing to alert Dedue of his presence before walking to the professor.

An easy mission, he reiterated to himself. 

* * *

**_ 1:20 p.m. on the 30th day of the Garland Moon, 1180 _ **

Marianne cursed herself for thinking any differently. She felt they wouldn’t escape today without clashing weapons, so why did she believe differently?

Was this her fault? She was cursed. She had forgotten recently, an absolutely foolish thing to do. Was this a reminder for her? 

She clenched her teeth.

Now was not the time.

It was one thing to fight with the faces of your enemies in plain sight. It was another entirely when they hid within the mist, pain and death capable of striking them from seemingly thin air. 

They had been ambushed by Lonato and his militia men under the guise of the fog. An underhanded yet effective tactic. Her allies all scrambled to formation, her included, lest they lose themselves in the bedlam. 

They would be okay. They had to be okay. 

Marianne heard the professor screaming orders from somewhere she couldn’t see. She took in a deep breath. 

She followed what she was told, the instructions reciting themselves in her mind on a constant loop. She was stationed in the back with a small group of monks. Their job was to heal any ally within sight and bombard enemies with spells when she could.

An armed individual appeared from the fog and charged them. Her spiked glaciers collided with the soldier, his death rattle reaching her ears. 

They weren’t just soldiers. They were village militia. Normal men with normal lives that volunteered their lives for a cause. She looked over the face of the man she just ended only to find the face of a boy her age.

She squeezed her eyes shut and looked away. 

_Focus. Heal. Attack. Survive._

Her classmates stuck close together in front of her, but they would charge into the fog after a foe she could not see and come back bleeding or bruised. She and her monks did their best to restore them before they went back in. 

Even with the help of the great knight, Catherine, the situation was dire. The fog was like a gray, wispy wall that held invisible terrors that would launch themselves at them. With very little to guide her, she made a note of several identifiable aspects of the battlefield she could turn to in order to reorient herself. The glow of Thunder Catherine’s relic, the emblazoned shield on Ingrid’s back, the striking red of Sylvain’s hair. She tried to keep all of it within sight.

A yell of pain sounded off near her position. She turned frantically to find a church soldier on the ground, an arrow pierced straight through his right shoulder. 

Marianne ran to him without a second thought. She left her battalion, kneeling beside the soldier once she was close. Her hands floated above the arrow wound, shaking and unknowing of how to proceed. The arrow was damaged going through, splinters in the shaft near the entrance wound. The soldier grunted in pain as he sat up. 

“Need to get back,” was all the soldier muttered. He reached for an iron sword laying nearby and handed it to her. “Cut it.”

She looked at the man, wide-eyed? “Ex- excuse me?”

“You heard me. _Urgh._ Cut it then pull the ends out! Heal me afterwards!” She fumbled the weapon in her hands and held it, trembling.

“If…if I do this, there’s no guarantee the wound will heal normally!-”

“Do it!” the soldier ordered. 

Her face hardened. She grit her teeth and aimed for the weakened wood and swung the sword down as hard as she carefully could like a hammer. The wood gave way, the lower end of the feathered shaft breaking off. The soldier screamed but reached behind his shoulder. Before she could look away, the man grabbed the arrowhead and pulled the rest of the arrow through him, splintered wood and all. 

She immediately set to work, her hands bloodying as she held both open holes of the man’s shoulder within her healing palms. The wounds sealed, though whatever internal damage was within remained. The man, wobbling, stood up and steadied himself. He looked to her, a semblance of gratitude in his grizzled eyes.

“Thank you. You did good. Now, get somewhere safe and-”

A bowstring was let loose in the distance. When she blinked, an arrow had planted itself through the neck of the speaking soldier. She watched, horrified, as the man slowly collapsed before her.

Marianne had no more time to watch as another projectile whizzed past her head. She was dazed from what just transpired, but she stumbled backwards and ducked away from the incoming fire. She tripped and used the iron sword she held to force herself back to her feet. 

She was panicking. 

That church soldier’s last moments stuck in her mind. The noises of armored bodies hitting the earth echoed all around her.

_This is my fault. This is happening because of me._

A man ran out of the fog. He chased her, sword in hand. She ran.

_Only misery for those who come near me._

Her lungs ached with every pant. The sword she carried was growing heavier. She was still being chased.

Her blood…it was rumbling.

_A cursed existence. I’ve damned us all._

She collided into the backs of the monks she had left. They turned to her wildly, and she looked back with equal fervor. She turned around to find the soldier advancing on them. The monks behind her fled. She watched him inch closer, frozen to her spot.

Her blood was seething.

_What have I done?_

The man was right in front of her. Weapon raised, he prepared to slice her through. He swung downwards.

Her blood was burning.

 _This is what I deserve_.

The world around her spun as she tumbled to the ground, tackled by an unknown force. The sound of steel cutting flesh hit her ears. 

“Ah!”

She rolled on the ground, whatever was clinging on to her crying out in pain. They stopped and stilled on the ground. The weight on her slowly lessened as it moved away. Still clutching her sword like a lifeline, she shakily moved to her knees, blood dripping from her face. She quickly felt her face for that life ending wound to find none. Instead, she turned to find Dimitri kneeling next to her. A long gash traveled the length of his right arm, the cut bleeding. She stared at it, petrified. 

Dimitri looked at her, grimacing in pain as he moved his other hand to hold his injured arm. “Marianne. Marianne!”

Movement in her periphery made her look at the soldier that was seconds away from taking her wretched life. He was coming again. 

Her head ached.

Her blood screamed at her.

She stood, instinctively, and grabbed the iron sword in her hand. She advanced toward her would-be killer. She heard someone call out to her. 

Whatever vile liquid that coursed through her veins yelled and howled and her whole body seemingly flashed in a bright light as a scowl overtook her. 

_“Keep away from me!”_

She swung, a wild sweeping thing. The man blocked it, but it didn’t matter. Aided by her monstrous Crest, her own weapon broke through the man’s blade, unheeded, before cutting deep into the men’s torso beneath his armpit. The man's clothing stained crimson by the blood leaving his body. She stared into the wells of his eyes, shock and fear being replaced by the cold dead stare of an extinguished flame.

Marianne panted heavily, deeply. She looked upon the torn mess beneath her, a snarl still on her face, before she came to her senses. Her eyes widened at what she had done, her hands letting go of the sword she used.

Despite the sounds of battle in the background, everything felt uncharacteristically still.

Remembering she wasn’t the only one around, she looked back to find Dimitri struggling to stand. She ran to him, ignoring the astounded look he gave her. She immediately went to his arm, her red hands lighting up.

“I’m- I’m sorry, please, please…”

“Marianne.”

“It’s- I’m fixing it, I swear, I promise...”

“Marianne!”

The wound healed but fabric still torn, Dimitri spun around to look at her. She found herself peering at those blue eyes again, the things looking back deep into her. 

Was this it? Was this where he found out what she truly was and became disgusted with her?

She watched his eyes narrow in worry, his head creasing. He laid a hand on her shoulder. Once again, she had been quaking. 

“Marianne, are you okay?”

Surprised, she didn’t respond. He began looking over her. “You appear uninjured. That’s good,” he said before he turned, looking towards something in the distance. He waved. “Dedue! Here!”

She didn’t know what he was doing. Didn’t he see what she had done? 

Loud footsteps accompanied by clanking armor approached them. “Your Highness! Marianne!” Dedue screeched to a halt and knelt beside them. He examined her then turned to Dimitri once he found her unharmed. “Your Highness, your injured! Please, stay back and-”

“I’m fine, Dedue. It’s just the fabric. Marianne's taken care of the wound.” 

She chose not to speak, fearful that something would change, and the world would turn on her once again. 

“Your Highness, please, I implore you to never run off like that again without letting me know!”

“I understand, Dedue, but she was in danger. Besides, she saved my life in turn. We're both okay.”

The two squabbled, all three of them in their own bubble removed from the skirmish. 

She stared at them listlessly.

She noticed the two had stopped talking. They turned their heads to find the smothering fog dissipating. 

“Hm. It looks like the fog was man made,” Dimitri commented. He stood. His hand gently wrapped around her arm as he lifted her up as well. “It looks like there’s still more battles to be fought,” he said, bitterness in his voice. “Marianne…are you able to continue?”

They looked at her, concern clear within their eyes. She still felt disconnected from herself. Her eyes looked past them and back on the body of the man she cut down. 

That had been the first time her Crest activated in battle. The way her blood boiled, and her head throbbed, how she felt anger and pain at once, it was an awful sensation. 

Maybe that was the consequence of her damned power. 

She warily nodded her head, signifying her willingness to shoulder on. The two young men exchanged a glance, no doubt contemplating whether to believe her, but they told her to come all the same.

“Stay close to us until we’re back with the rest, okay?”

Dimitri watched her, worried. Once again, she could only nod her head. 

An easy mission, she said to herself. 

They went to regroup with the professor and passed the corpse she had killed on the way. 

Its eyes were empty.

An easy mission, she repeated. If only that had been the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone ever wonder how dudes can just create fog with magic? That's wild. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with the story. Classes are approaching soon so output will definitely slow, but for now, I'm dedicated to working on what I can.


	6. Blue Sea Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conflicting interests

**_ 6:35 p.m. on the 2nd day of the Blue Sea Moon, 1180 _ **

The last of the monks and church workers were exiting, their steps moving away from the Cathedral. Marianne remained, the masses leaving just her and the few lazing guards to themselves. Granted the luxury of freer air, her head inclined once again to dedicate her being to the Goddess.

Her prayers have been nonstop, and her guilt intensified since that hazy day in the Magdred Way. Just the thought of it made her nails dig into the flesh of her palms. 

The cold feeling washing over her body kept returning in waves at every memory of that battlefield. The last moments of that arrow-stricken soldier, her carelessness in endangering her battalion, how her yearning and demanding blood made her accursed Crest bite into that man, it all poured over and covered her, the sins ordering for repentance. Her heart suspended its own beating whenever she remembered the dark iron raised above her like a guillotine, the blade that aimed to take her life instead slicing deep into a watchful ally. 

The blow Dimitri took for her served as a deadly reminder of the consequences of her selfishness. She had gotten well-meaning individuals harmed for her sake, a true indicator that her existence was a threat to those around her. Her arrival here was a mistake, her hopes of bettering herself being an act of hubris.

She had to repent. 

_Dear Goddess, I beg of You to keep the ones around me in good health. Keep your humble servants safe from the evils of my bloodline. Save the souls of those who had died for my sake, and protect those endangered by my presence, I beg of You._

_As Your willing participant, I pray that if what I request be too great that You take my breath You have gifted me and save the others more deserving of Your precious gifts._

_Please, please, please…_

“Marianne?” 

Her mind screeched to a halt.

“Oh. Dimitri.”

He looked surprised, a look of regret taking over. “Oh…I’m sorry for disturbing your prayer.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I just finished.”

Marianne hadn’t spoken to Dimitri since the mission. If she were to be truthful, she had been avoiding him if she could manage. Her guilt was too unbearable. But she knew she couldn’t avoid him forever. 

“I see,” he said with a nod of his head. A small, inquisitive smile took his lips. “What were you praying for?”

“I was simply asking the goddess…for forgiveness,” she confessed. She couldn’t stop the creeping shame within her from shadowing her face.

Dimitri’s smile was replaced by a questioning look, a hand going to his chin in thought. “Forgiveness? For what?”

“I put our soldiers in danger during the recent battle.” Her head hung in shame.

The prince spoke to her, softly, with more genuine concern than she deserved. “What matters is that they came back safely. You shouldn’t blame yourself for that.”

“It’s true but…you were injured when you came to our aid.” 

“That? It was just a scratch. A small price to pay for your safety.” He crossed his arms, rubbing the length of the arm where the wound used to be. 

“But…” It was absurd, what he was saying to her. It was dangerous. But he sounded earnest, the care evident in his voice. Whatever emotions those words created within her were immediately beset by thoughts of unworthiness and anxiety for burdening a well-intentioned man. She couldn’t accept such kindness from one who did not know of the dangers they were playing with.

“I would never regret helping an ally, even if it meant losing my own life,” Dimitri said. The considerate upturn of his lips only served to incense her growing fear for him.

“No, no. That’s wrong.” She shook her head. She looked into his eyes for any sign that he was insincere but was met with only the opposite. 

“How so?” The windows to his being beamed back at her. The all too familiar feeling she thought she imagined in their first meeting was perceivable once again. Bleak resignation stared back at her like she was seeing her own reflection, a startling thing. Try as he might, the veneer of bravery and gallantry could not hide his true feelings.

It was all too much for her.

“It’s just all wrong,” she blurted out. Never mind how childish it sounded, Marianne had a duty to save him from himself. “You have my thanks for helping in the battle, Dimitri. But I'm afraid I have to ask that you keep your distance from me.” 

Her words were harsher than she meant, and she cursed herself for it, but she stood her ground. But the flash of shock and betrayal on Dimitri’s face lashed at her heartstrings. 

“Is that so?” the young prince muttered. A palpable tension enveloped them causing her to breathe out a weak response. 

“Yes.” Despondent, her entire body seemed to slump. The boy in front of her was slow to retort, his gaze glued to his feet as a pensive air overtook him. She feared that she insulted him. 

When he looked back to her, his expression was hardened. The acceptance of fate present before was replaced by a fierce look shadowed with remorse and sadness. 

“Forgive me, but I will be there for you. Whether you want me to or not.” 

The finality of his statement was emphasized by his departure. 

Marianne watched him go. A feeling of sorrow embedded itself within her like she had just deeply damaged something precious. 

It was for his own good, she consoled herself. If only he could see that. But as she watched him go and images of moments past of his hurt expressions replayed themselves in her mind, she couldn’t help but sigh. 

“I’m sorry…”

* * *

**_ 1:20 p.m. on the 13th day of the Blue Sea Moon, 1180 _ **

Dimitri dragged the whetstone across the end of the sword. His technique was serviceable at best, but he wasn't interested in being precise as of late. Alone in the Knight’s Hall in front of the fireplace, the combination of the sound of sharpening steel and the menial task at hand allowed him to focus squarely on his thoughts.

_The assassination attempt during the Rite of Rebirth is surely a diversion._

_But what could our enemies truly be after?_

He let out another slow drag along the blade.

_Treasures seem pointless for such a serious threat._

_The Holy Mausoleum seems to be the only answer…_

The pressure he applied to the sword increased.

_And what of our skills?_

_If an enemy so bold were to attack, would we be able to defend ourselves adequately?_

He unknowingly growled.

_Not to mention our composition has taken a blow._

_Will we be able to function as we have been now that-?_

The force applied became too much, and the sword’s blade snapped in two. 

He looked at the pathetic pieces in annoyance. He sighed.

“Damn…”

Knowing it was beyond repair, he threw the pieces on the ground along with the two other swords he had already broken beforehand. He hoped that no one would notice a drop in their inventory for steel swords.

“Yeesh. Those swords were brand new too. How do you even do that?”

“You think you could do that with tree logs, your royalness? Must make manual labor a breeze, huh?”

Dimitri turned to the new arrivals with unamused haste.

“Claude…and Hilda?”

The future Sovereign Duke was there giving his characteristic smirk, but he was also joined by the pink-haired girl from his class as well. She gave a pout.

“Hey, what do you mean ‘and Hilda?’ Upset to see me or something?”

“Oh- um, no. Forgive me, that was not my intention. I just-”

“Relax, I’m just kidding!” She enthusiastically flopped herself down on the bench beside him. Before he could protest, Claude occupied the other side leaving the prince sandwiched between the two nobles. 

_Goddess help me._

“Can I help you two?” he asked. The sly boy beside him lazily placed an arm around the prince’s shoulders.

“Easy, my friend,” the rival leader told him. “We’re just here to chat. Nothing wrong with that, right?”

“Yeah, we just want to talk. Schoolwork, training, the usual, you know?”

The two were smiling at him innocently, but it only made him more wary.

“Err…okay. What would you like to talk about?”

“How are you keeping up with your grades, Your Highness?” Claude questioned.

“I’m doing fine, I suppose.”

“Good, good. That’s nice to hear. Right, Hilda?”

“Definitely, definitely. What about your training, hm? You’re a real hard worker from what I’ve seen.”

“I…guess so?”

“How delightful. Handsome and diligent. Isn’t that delightful, Claude?”

“It sure is, Hilda. It sure is.”

The sardonic atmosphere was dropping the temperature of the room. Dimitri wasn’t impressed.

“If you two actually want to get to the point, I suggest doing so before I lose patience.”

“Woah there, Your Princeliness,” Claude said while anchoring Dimitri to his spot. “You’re right. We do have something we want to talk about.”

There was an edge to Claude’s voice now. Hilda’s smile felt much colder than its appearance would let on.

Everything felt more antagonistic.

He wasn’t rattled. 

“Out with it then, you two. I don’t have time for such antics.”

The two Alliance classmates exchanged a look. 

Without any warning, Claude turned himself and laid his legs across Dimitri’s lap. Hilda leaned back and rested her head on her hand. 

The hostile atmosphere dissipated swiftly. 

Dimitri wondered if these two were always like this.

Claude, his easy smile and relaxed tone restored, let loose his question. “Your mission last month concerning Lonato sounded pretty dicey. We’re curious to know what went down.”

“Yeah,” Hilda agreed. “Getting ambushed in the fog and whatnot? Sounds like a disaster if you ask me.”

Dimitri exhaled a sigh of relief but didn’t let his prior irritation go away. Is this all that they wanted to hear?

“You couldn’t just ask me this at the start?”

The boy crossed his legs. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Trying not to let his impulses get the better of him, Dimitri answered. “I don’t know what to tell you other than what happened. We were supposed to assist in the aftermath of whatever was left of the rebellion, but we were ambushed in the fog by Lonato and his militia.”

“Militia?” the girl next to him asked. “As in, civilians were in the mix?” 

He nodded his head. 

“I don’t recall anyone else saying so anywhere…” Claude mumbled.

“Most of us don’t wish to bring it up. It was a terrible situation.” he explained. The Riegan heir nodded along to the information. “Is that all you wanted to ask of me?”

“Hey, slow your horses there, Your Highness,” Hilda ordered. “How are your classmates? Is Ashe doing well?”

“He’s doing as well as anyone in his position could be doing.” 

“Oh, that’s good to hear. Ashe is a great guy. Lots of great guys in the Blue Lions, really." The girl leaned in closer. He felt the threatening vibes coming off her. "Do you think your classmates are great to each other?”

“Yes,” he answered pointedly. Dimitri was scrambling to figure out their hidden agenda. Kind as they may possibly be, he doubted they came here to rile him up just to question his class’ chemistry.

His rival house leader responded to his answer with a raised eyebrow. “You positive about that, Dimitri? That your friends treat each other well?”

“I am.”

“Interesting. And how would you say they are with everyone else?” Claude asked him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He leaned in slowly and closely, his legs coming in and pinning Dimitri to the couch and his eyes now level with his. “Say, they wouldn’t do anything to any of _our_ Golden Deer, right?”

Oh.

That’s what this was about.

Seeing the realization settling across his face, the Goneril girl leaned in closer, a fake smile adorning her. “You know Marianne, right? She’s a friend of ours. Helped your class out for a bit.” He nodded. “Good. Well, she’s been shutting herself in a bit more than usual ever since your mission. And you know how she is. Quiet and all that. It’s hard to get a straight answer of what’s bothering her.” There was a sad pout on her face that felt equal parts sympathetic and menacing. 

“And, well, we don’t want to make any _accusations_ or anything,” Claude picked up, “but it sure does seem likely that whatever happened concerns you guys. Not to mention she’s decided to stop assisting you guys on missions for the foreseeable future, and, well, things start to get a little fishy, don’t they?” Dimitri made note of the scheming smile on the leader’s face.

He wasn’t expecting to be interrogated today, and he didn’t want to find out what comes after it if he didn’t appease this duo.

“Enough, you two,” he said, raising a hand to calm them. “I understand what you’re trying to say.”

“Oh? Then, mayhaps his princeliness _does_ know of any wrongdoings and has been keeping them from us?”

Hilda gasped mockingly. “I can’t believe it! For shame, Your Highness. For shame.”

The prince’s eyes rolled around in their sockets.

“It was nothing like that, I can assure you.”

“Then do you mind explaining to us what did happen? Not knowing things makes me very unhappy, my friend." Claude's voice lowered. " _It’s in your best interests to know that._ ”

Dimitri was through with the posturing.

The future king pushed Claude’s legs off him.

“I’d be happy to oblige as long as you keep whatever’s in that vial you're holding away from me.”

…

Dimitri finished his recount of what happened between him and Marianne on that day. He absentmindedly rubbed his arm, a habit he’s picked up whenever he recalls the moment. Claude leaned back in his seat. His eyes were closed as he apparently absorbed his retelling.

Hilda pursed her lips in disappointment.

“Hm. Sounds like you’re okay after all _._ That’s no fun. I had my axe grinded and everything.”

He genuinely couldn’t decide whether she was serious or not. 

Claude let out a somewhat satiated sigh. “Well, I think I can accept your explanation. As long as you didn’t hurt her. Sounds like you helped her, if anything. From dying, at least.” 

“I’m a bit insulted that you think I would ever hurt her- _any_ of my fellow peers.” Dimitri was upset over the notion. He respected all his classmates and would do his best to ensure they were all safe. All of them. 

Claude’s eyes didn’t miss Dimitri’s slip of the lip, but he let it go unmentioned. 

“I hear you, Your Highness. I think you’re a real standup guy, really. Just covering all my bases.” He patted the crown prince on the shoulder. “Still, now that I know what the issue is, I’m going to have to rethink a new way through this one…”

“If it helps…Marianne and I have already spoken about it.”

A surprised expression took over Claude. “She spoke to you about it, did she now?” 

Dimitri nodded, though less than pleased. Their talk didn’t exactly end smoothly. He could still feel his regret from deeply upsetting her so, whatever the way he did it. He felt Claude look over him.

“So, you talked it out. Does that mean things are patched up? That look on your face isn’t exactly inspiring confidence.”

Dimitri pondered to himself. Were things okay between him and the enigmatic girl? 

_“You have my thanks for helping in the battle, Dimitri. But I'm afraid I have to ask that you keep your distance from me.”_

They certainly weren’t going to be sharing silences anymore. It saddened him when he thought about it. He enjoyed them, but his own blunders may have ruined whatever amity they had. 

But to leave her in danger? Would he do such a thing if she wanted it?

_Forgive me, but I will be there for you. Whether you want me to or not._

“Yes,” Dimitri lied. “Everything should be fine between us.”

He didn’t miss Claude’s suspicions over his hesitancy, the Riegan boy giving off the impression that he didn’t believe what the prince had said. He tried not to wince, but he always had been a bad liar.

Claude was too smart to let the obvious go unnoticed, so it must have been willful ignorance when the head of the Golden Deer stood up from his seat and stretched his limbs. He let out a satisfied groan when he finished. “Come on, Hilda. We did what we needed to do here. Don’t want to take up anymore of the prince’s precious time.” 

His partner-in-crime bounced off the seat. She didn’t appear entirely convinced. “Are you sure, Claude?” she asked, doubt clear in her voice.

“Positive.”

The girl shot Dimitri a glare, her eyes scrutinizing him before she shrugged. Her sharp stare was replaced by her carefree smile. “Whatever you say, Claude.” She spun on her heel and began walking away. 

“Hm. Well, it was nice to clear the air with you, Dimitri. I’ll be sure to see you around.” The young Alliance noble turned to follow Hilda, but not before shooting the prince a wink and a reminder. “And don’t forget to treat my kin kindly. _I see all_ , you know.”

Not wanting to entertain the vague threat, Dimitri watched them leave, wordless. When he was sure they were away, he sighed.

“Never a dull moment…”

Despite their method of handling it, Dimitri wouldn’t say that their meeting was pointless. He was unaware that Marianne was struggling, especially now that she had declined to participate in any further assignments with them. At least she had perceptive friends looking out for her. That helped ease his concerns. 

Alone once again and his mind even more agitated than before, he found himself at a loss of what to do. Focusing on one thing would do him no good, not unless he wished to invite a headache willingly. 

His eyes fell on the several broken swords he had been sharpening. 

He picked them up and prepared them for disposal. 

Whatever mind-numbing task to keep him occupied. 

* * *

**_ 2:50 p.m. on the 26th day of the Blue Sea Moon, 1180 _ **

Marianne and the rest of her class stepped into the Dining Hall. The area was uncharacteristically void of people. Lysithea sighed.

“There Raphael. See? No thieves are here to raid the pantry. Can we move on, please?”

The voracious boy let out a disappointed groan. Claude motioned them on to continue their patrol route.

The Goddess’ Rite of Rebirth would be taking place soon. Marianne wished she could be in attendance for such a spectacle, but her and most of the other students were tasked to patrol the Monastery because of the supposed assassination plot on the Archbishop’s life. 

The idea never sat well with her, the fact that there are individuals that would consider doing such a thing, but “she only knew a small part of the world” as the professor had put it. 

The Golden Deer entered the Reception Hall, many other soldiers and students bustling about in pursuit of any criminals. Claude signaled them to stop. 

“I think we can take a break for now,” he said, placing his bow on a nearby table. Her friends were quick to find a spot to rest.

Most of them, anyway.

“Claude, it is our duty to see this assignment done to the best of our abilities!” Lorenz scolded. “There is no time for rest when there are assassins afoot!”

“Relax, Lorenz,” Claude said, dropping into a seat. “We’ve been walking the same route for two hours now. Ten minutes wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

“Perhaps for someone as unqualified as you, but I and the rest of our friends surely know that we must be doing more. Am I not right?” 

Lorenz called out to them, reaching for their agreements. 

“Yeah. No.” Hilda returned to resting her head.

“I think a break is just fine, to be honest,” Ignatz said. “We can’t perform at our peak if we aren’t well rested.”

“I agree with Ignatz! Besides, if they aren’t robbing that Dining Hall, then I don’t know what they could be doing!”

Leonie also disagreed with Lorenz. “I need to double-check this bowstring anyway.”

Lysithea was already pages deep into a textbook, solidifying her stance.

Lorenz looked appalled. “This is preposterous! I cannot believe you all!” He turned to Marianne, his last glimmer of hope. “Surely you don’t condone such attitudes, do you Marianne?”

The plea in his eyes were dangerously persuasive. 

Marianne’s aching feet were much more so.

“Um. I think it’ll do us all some good to rest.”

The nobleman hung his head in defeat. He shuffled to an empty seat muttering about _“disgraced nobles”_ amongst other things. 

They allowed themselves a brief respite, chatting to each other if there were any possible assassins to begin with.

“I’m just saying,” Raphael started, a snack in hand, “if there were really assassins, wouldn’t they have done their thing by now?”

“Well, the whole point of assassination is to do it when no one expects it, right?” Hilda countered.

“That’s not even accounting for the fact that it could all be a diversion,” the white-haired sorcerer added.

“Be it a plot or a diversion, we’d do well to keep up our defenses. To disrupt such an important ceremony would be most disrespectful to the Goddess.” Ignatz’s eyes turned upwards at his mention of the deity, looking as if he were lost in thought.

Leonie finished tightening her bowstring taut before turning it over for further inspection. “Whatever it is, I just hope they make it easy for us. Walking around for nothing seems like wasted training time if you ask me.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if _nothing_ happened, though?” Marianne’s question garnered her some looks. “I mean…the best-case scenario is that no one gets hurt in the end, isn’t it?”

The tomboyish girl gave a thoughtful noise. “Huh. I guess I forgot about that part.”

Hilda leaned in close to Marianne, delighted. “Yeah! Marianne gets it! If nothing happens, then we have an entire day to just laze about! Good thinking!”

She flushed red at her friend’s praises but accepted it all the same. 

Hilda released Marianne before gesturing towards their leader. “What about you, Claude? What do you think? You’ve been awfully quiet back there.”

“Why yes I have. For good reason, too.” 

Lorenz, who had finished his bout of skulking, scoffed. “Good reason? You mean to tell me that you weren't just slacking and have an idea as to what might transpire?”

“I’m not saying that,” the head of the Golden Deer said, “but I do think my hunch is pretty solid. I've been mulling over it for a while, and I _may_ just have the answer we’re looking for.”

“And, pray tell, what would that be?” The voice of a refined young woman startled them. Edelgard appeared, stopping before Claude and them. A stomping of footsteps followed as numerous students followed under the Adrestian princess. 

“Oh, princess! What a pleasure to be graced by your presence!” Claude remarked in that sarcastic, grating way unique only to him. “And it looks like you brought all your friends too. Tell me, you weren’t eavesdropping on us, now, were you?”

A dark-haired young man behind Edelgard let out a sinister laugh. “Is it eavesdropping when your voice could be heard from nearly anywhere on Monastery grounds?” 

_“Rude,”_ one of the Golden Deer whispered before Edelgard interfered.

“There’s no need for that, Hubert. Especially when our dear friend may have answers to our enemies’ whereabouts.”

Caspar, the feisty, short boy, popped up from behind the Black Eagles. “No way! You know where the bad guys are hiding?” 

“Control yourself, Caspar,” another boy drawled, dragging their friend back. Linhardt, Marianne recalled his name. She remembered him from the one time she tripped over him on the Library floor, sleeping. 

“What are you all doing here?” Leonie asked, suddenly. “Shouldn’t you guys be on patrol?” 

“The same could be said for you all,” a stunning woman responded. Dorothea adjusted her hat to rest more comfortably on her head. “Glass houses, dear.” 

Leonie rolled her eyes, but there was no animosity. The Black Eagles’ resident dignitary stepped up to answer.

“If you must know, our class decided that a small break period would do us some good.” Ferdinand flipped the front of his hair, almost as if he was flaunting. “I, of course, objected to such a thing, but Edelgard insisted. It’s a noble’s duty to put forth their best effort after all, but alas, I was overruled.” Lorenz gesticulated to his fellow cultured nobleman to Claude who had willingly ignored him.

“Oh, speak for yourself, Ferdinand. I don’t know how you can deal with this much walking.” 

Marianne was confused by the strange squeaking that emanated from thin air, but she found the source to be Bernadetta hiding behind Ferdinand. The girl was shaking, using her taller classmates as shelter. A girl with markings on her face patted her head.

“I am still having confusion,” Petra asked, the Brigid princess tilting her head in curiosity. “What is this 'hunch' that you speak of, Claude?”

“I’m glad you asked. Gather ‘round, children.” Marianne and the other students huddled close to Claude. He rubbed his hands theatrically. “First off, I think we can all agree that the whole assassination plot is bogus.”

Caspar crawled his way through to the inside of the huddle. “Huh? Why?” 

“It’s simple. A ‘secret’ note laying around detailing a plot to assassinate the Archbishop? That’s way too obvious that it’s almost laughable. Don’t you agree, your royalness?”

“I do. Frankly, the authenticity of the letter has always been suspicious to me.”

“Good! With that out of the way, in this scenario, the enemy would obviously use the cover of the letter to target another place in Monastery. Places with valuables and treasures would be on the top of the list.”

“Like the Greenhouse?”

“Like the Library?”

“Like the Dining Hall?”

“...Okay,” Claude said, placing his hands on the table, “I think we all need to get together and learn what _valuable_ means for another time.”

“Where are you going with this, Claude?” The Imperial Princess voiced everyone’s impatience.

“Think about it,” the boy said as he flattened a map of the Monastery before them. “Today, the Monastery is open to the public. Because of that, lots of usually secure places have less personnel than normal. It would make some areas ripe for the picking. And the one tightly guarded place that would suffer from that _and_ holds priceless artifacts?” Claude dramatically dragged his finger on the map before settling it on its destination.

The rest of them checked where he was pointing, confused.

Marianne couldn’t stop herself from asking. “The…the Cathedral?”

“Not just the Cathedral, my pal. Look closer,” he said, tapping a finger in the corner of the Cathedral’s floor. “The Holy Mausoleum.”

“The Holy Mausoleum? That’s…weird, I have to admit,” Hilda confessed. 

Edelgard frowned, not persuaded. “Care to explain your reasoning, Claude?”

“Of course. The Holy Mausoleum is the perfect out of the way spot that just so happens to hold one of the most priceless possessions the Church has: Seiros herself. With most of the guards being stationed elsewhere, I got a pretty good feeling that it all starts adding up.”

Murmuring started between the students who questioned Claude’s theory.

“How are you so sure that the security detail is sparse?” Lorenz asked, skeptical.

Marianne spoke, the knowledge flowing out of her before she could second guess herself. “Oh, I’ve been spending my time there, recently. I heard the guards speaking about the various positions they’ve been assigned to away from the Cathedral for the Rite today.” They all stared at her. Try as she might, she couldn’t help but curl into herself. “That’s…just what I heard, of course.”

A stifled yawn resounded through the group. “She’s right. I was there early this morning at the Mausoleum in hopes of seeing the holy artifacts. The place was definitely undermanned.” Lindhardt let out another yawn. “Still, some monks did chase me out at noon eventually. A shame, really.”

“Wait. _That’s_ where you were the entire morning?” Edelgard turned to her fellow Black Eagle, a stern look upon her face.

Before she could discipline him, Claude coughed. “Ahem…well, I think that helps my case, doesn’t it? Two reliable sources from our wonderful friends?”

The future empress considered his proposition. “I will say, it’s not the most outlandish thing I’ve heard. We won’t know for sure unless we see for ourselves, though.”

“Well, why don’t we? A nice class trip to the Cathedral just to check. Sounds fun, right?”

A chorus of agreements rang out, though mostly on scouting the Mausoleum and not about the fun. 

The mass of them herded together and moved towards the Cathedral, the two leaders taking the charge. 

They started toward the bridge with idle talk spread out between the intermingling classes. 

“I gotta say, our houses don’t usually get a chance to be together like this,” Hilda noted to the others. Ferdinand nodded. 

“Indeed. It does my heart well to be with each other like this. The Blue Lion house is certainly missing out.”

The mention of the Blue Lions made Marianne unconsciously frown. She did the same when she saw them an hour ago, patrolling their own area. She was meant to continue helping them while she could, but she had declined the professor’s invitation this month. The images from Magdred Way still ailed her. 

It was for the best, she reminded herself, even if she did miss the camaraderie he- _they_ had shown her. 

“Hm. Speaking of, does anyone know where those guys are at right now?”

Hilda’s inquiry was met with negatives. Marianne, fortunately, had an idea. 

“I saw them about an hour ago when we were doing our own rounds,” she said. She started to think in attempts of remembering where she had seen them. “If I recall…they were headed towards…towards the Cathedral, actually.”

Marianne, not looking, collided with the back of the person she was walking behind. She apologized (profusely) before seeing that everyone else had halted as well, Claude raising a hand to them. He turned slowly to look at Marianne, a solemnly look on his face.

“You saw them headed to the Cathedral?”

She nodded. It was clear as day the way the denizens of Faerghus marched to their place, the professor and Dimitri leading them on. 

Claude’s face, however, grew increasingly more troubled. “Did, uh. Did anyone see them _out_ of the Cathedral within the last hour or so?”

He was met with a bewildered silence. 

The boy let his feelings to their response known.

“ _Shit.”_

As if the word was the hammer that broke the dam, the startling realization hit them all at once. Marianne’s own eyes widened.

Edelgard brandished her axe. “Let’s move. _Now._ ”

Running across the bridge with her allies, she prayed that whatever conclusion they had jumped to was all silly speculation and that the Goddess was surely keeping the subjects of her prayers safe.

When they approached closer to the Mausoleum’s open entrance, sounds of shouting and clashing metal emanating from within, Marianne once again felt foolish for believing her insignificant prayers would have any blessed effect on their recipients. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys already know I'm going to be spamming Areadbhar in Smash.


	7. Verdant Rain Moon (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discovering the common thread.

_~ 3:12 p.m. on the 26th day of the **Blue Sea Moon** , 1180 ~ _

_The Cathedral was abuzz as soldiers and students alike were on standby. After finding their hunch to be correct, the two houses alerted nearby knights. Catherine had fortunately been close and entered the Mausoleum, and as such, they were all currently awaiting her return, hopefully with the Blue Lions in tow._

_Marianne wrung her hands together, her heart pounding in anticipation. She knew the skills of the professor and his class, but her mind couldn’t stop from jumping to the worst-case scenario._

_Her classmates were in various states of worry like her. Several them headed by Claude and Edelgard were in a heated debate with one of the Knights of Seiros. The woman was adamant in not letting the students enter the Mausoleum no matter their pleas. Others simply waited with her._

_Amidst the discord, a loud voice shouted from the entrance of the site of battle._

_“Hey!”_

_Catherine emerged with her soldiers. Several strange looking men were restrained and dragged along by them. The intruders, no doubt. Shamir ran to Catherine, and Marianne caught their conversation._

_“Get Alois to take these sorry excuses away to await judgement while we clean up, won't you Shamir?”_

_“He’s on the way.”_

_“Good. By the way…there’s something you...definitely wanna see.”_

_“Later. Where are the students?”_

_On cue, several students lumbered out alive, but looking worse for wear._

_“If any of you can heal, your skills would be appreciated!” Catherine called out in Marianne and her friends’ direction as the Knight entered the Mausoleum followed closely by her archer companion._

_Marianne ran, then, along with several others._

_None of the Lions appeared mortally wounded, but their conditions made her chest ache in sympathy. Many of them were panting, exhausted. Sylvain, even with a beauty such as Dorothea tending to his wounds, was straining to keep his “charming” smile on his face. Felix and Ashe worked together to drag their tired friends, Annette and Ingrid, to Professor Manuela. Linhardt and Professor Hanneman started removing pieces of Dedue’s heavy armor to get to the burnt wounds beneath._

_Marianne’s eyes zeroed in on a stumbling woman leaning against the wall near the Mausoleum’s door. Mercedes’ entire body shook with every breath she took and looked close to keeling over. Marianne ran to her side and held her as she slowly lowered her to a sitting position on the floor._

_“Oh. Marianne. Is that you?”_

_The older girl barely breathed out the words, a soft smile on her face._

_“It’s me, Mercedes. Don’t worry, hold on…” The blue-haired healer set her magic on Mercedes, her hands floating over her for any unseen injuries. Her lips pursed at the woman’s complexion. She was looking deathly pale and weary. The Alliance student’s mind inevitably fell to regret. Was Mercedes’ condition something she could have prevented if she were with them?_

_Marianne’s expression hardened as she worked, not paying any mind to her thoughts or the splotches of dried blood on the clothes and hair of her patient. The woman let out a deep breath as her vitality returned._

_“Don’t worry about any injuries. I didn’t take any blows.”_

_Marianne’s brows furrowed. “But the blood…”_

_Mercedes, eyes closed and doing the closest thing to smirk she’s ever seen the woman do, replied._

_“Not mine.”_

_Marianne’s hands dimmed as her spell finished. Mercedes, energized, sat herself up in a better position. Color returned to her face. She wrapped an arm around Marianne._

_“That was truly a relief. Thank you so much, my friend.”_

_“It’s the least I could do for you…”_

_The kind woman giggled. “I must say, seeing your healing again is definitely a sight for sore eyes! I guess I should appreciate what I had when it was there, hm?” Though it was obviously said with no ill-will, her jest still made Marianne clench her fists in disgrace. Seeing her reaction, Mercedes was quick to correct herself. “Oh, I apologize! Marianne, that’s not what I meant.”_

_“Is it not true though?” she whispered. “I could’ve helped…I could’ve been there.”_

_She felt a pair of arms wrap around her. “Oh, hush, don’t say that. We know you had your reasons. We're not your responsibility. Please don’t fret over us.”_

_If only it were so easy, she thought to herself._

_Marianne got to her feet, carefully pulling Mercedes up with her. Their eyes turned to their classmates. The healers amongst them cared for the injured, while others spectated or provided support in other ways. Mercedes began to walk towards them to Marianne’s surprise._

_“Wait,” she said, putting a hand on the older girl’s shoulder, “you shouldn’t move too much yet.”_

_“It’s okay. I’m feeling much better, thanks to you. I promise not to overtax myself.”_

_Despite her own reservations, she deferred to her, letting the girl go._

_Marianne’s eyes scanned over the scene before her. The Cathedral was still in a riotous state. She scoured over the Blue Lions, checking over them. She frowned when she realized their numbers seemed short._

_Clunking footsteps stomped from behind her. She spun around to see an enervate prince exit the Mausoleum, bruised and sweaty. Marianne stared at his sudden appearance, surprised. When he lifted his head, he met her surprised gaze by gaping at her._

_Why did the Goddess curse her so?_

_They were still, stuck by their own shock. Marianne hadn’t spoken to him for weeks, and now he was here. Was he mad at her for cutting off their association? Disappointed?_

_He waited for his reaction._

  
  


_He coughed._

_“Um. Hello.”_

_He lifted a hand to wave at her, a sight she would’ve looked on with incredulity had he not winced in pain from his action. Her healing instincts took over as she rushed to him._

_She gently went to sit him down, and he complied, though whether it was obedience or necessity that made him remained to be seen. She knelt and examined him, her eyes searching for anything severe. There was nothing grievous, something she silently thanked the Goddess for, but the more she looked, the more she saw minor injuries pile up. Nicks and grazes littered through his armor, and bruises made themselves known on any showing skin. The worst was a contusion below his right eye colored black and blue._

_Her hands were ready to cure before she remembered who she was working on. Afraid, she asked her question, avoiding making eye contact with him._

_“Um. I’m…going too…” she trailed off, still nervous if he had issues with her. Her fears were assuaged with a nod of his head._

_“Of course. Go ahead.”_

_Torn and bruised skin healed as her hands roamed over them. A sore leg, cuts on his hip, and purple on his clavicle were just a portion of the injuries she mended. Her head shook in frustration. Not at Dimitri, but at the situation that caused this._

_“So much…” she mumbled aloud._

_“There were more intruders than we anticipated,” he explained. “We did our best, but we didn’t have the manpower. We couldn’t outlast them all unscathed.”_

_Another pang of guilt waved through her. She hoped her feelings weren’t evident on her face, but the prince’s silence dashed her hopes._

_Wordless seconds passed by as she finished healing the last of his wounds. Her hands slowly retracted. There was one more injury that needed attention, but she found herself lacking in courage to give it._

_Dimitri didn’t seem to notice. The young men began clambering to his feet._

_“Um. You have my thanks…I suppose I’ll-”_

_Marianne placed her hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaving. The prince froze._

_Now wasn’t the time to let personal feelings get in the way of what needed to be done._

_“One more,” she explained. “Below your eye.”_

_He stilled for a moment before sitting back down. She took in a deep breath to prepare herself then brought her face level to his. Her hand gently floated near the mottled skin._

_As inconspicuous as she tried to be, her eyes couldn’t exactly avoid his. Even with her trying to fill her vision of his wound, she still saw how he stared intently at her. She tried not to think much of it lest she lose her concentration. Her position reminded her of their encounter at night months ago. She wondered if he remembered similarly._

_The contusion was more serious than she first thought. She doubled her efforts when the colored flesh refused to heal as fast as she wanted it to. It wasn’t as fresh as some of his other injuries, meaning it had been like this for quite some time. She narrowed her eyes and let an irritated breath escape her. Would she have been able to fix this before it had gotten to this point if she were there?_

_She was finishing, the wound as close to finishing as she could possibly make it. It was no longer an ugly shade of darkness, but the slight redness was still perceptible._

_If only she were better._

_Marianne placed her hands back in her lap. “That should be it,” she told him after a time. She looked at her hands, still unable to face him directly, but he didn’t move. He didn’t leave her immediately like she expected. Her cowardice could only last so long before her bewilderment took over and made her look up at him to see why he remained._

_“Dimitri?”_

_Her gasp came out involuntarily when she saw Dimitri gazing intensely upon her. He appeared stunned, but in a different way than earlier. He looked at her in awe like he had just discovered something so unexpected, so impossible that the only thing he could do was stare, mouth slightly agape._

_She leaned back. Dimitri’s unanticipated behavior made her stumble._

_“D-Dimitri? Is something wrong?”_

_Her shaky voice seemed to pull him out of whatever deep trance he had fallen into. He blinked several times, and he shook his head like the two acts indicated a return to his senses._

_“Um. I’m sorry. I don’t…there’s nothing wrong.”_

_If she were a bolder person, she would challenge his obvious lie, but she was the last person that deserved to hound people on what they kept to themselves._

_They stayed together, unsure of how to proceed. The bustling of the Cathedral felt disconnected from them as the two attempted to maintain the fragile peace between them._

_Despite her active fingers, the way he held his fist to his mouth, and their inability to look in each other’s direction, Marianne reminisced. She could feel the same comfort she felt when they would walk together in the few missions they shared. No words or having to force herself to speak for conversation’s sake, just time spent in silence with someone who would let her._

_She missed it._

_Their tranquility wouldn’t last forever, of course. The fallout of intruding enemies prevented that, of course. Even then, Dimitri made the first move to speak._

_“Marianne, are you-”_

_“Hey! Your lordliness!”_

_Their heads snapped to an approaching Claude and Edelgard rounding around the corner. The white-haired princess looked as serious as ever._

_“There you are,” she announced, more out of exasperation than concern._

_“Hiding from us, Dimitri?” Claude teased. “You know that as the principal student in this mess, a lot of people have been waiting for an explanation, yeah? Especially since your professor and the Knights of Seiros are taking their awfully sweet time down there.”_

_Dimitri scrambled to his feet. “Of course, my apologies. I just had to sort out some…injuries,” he finished, glancing over at Marianne. Claude gave him an amused smirk._

_“At least you got help from the best,” he said, not so subtly praising his fellow Golden Deer._

_Edelgard shook her head. “Well, you look fine now. Come. There are matters to discuss.”_

_She spun around to leave, Claude following her (“someone’s in a hurry”)._

_Marianne watched Dimitri trail after them before he stopped. He turned to her with the same look he had when he stared at her, stunned._

_“Marianne. I…thank you.”_

_He left her there, needing to attend to other matters._

_What caused him to react in such a way, she wondered. What about her made him look at her so?_

_Marianne sighed, the effects of her healing catching up to her. She sat down and took a breath._

_Whatever it was, he didn’t look at her in disgust. After what she said to him, she was glad._

_It was enough._

* * *

**_ 11:45 a.m. on the 10th day of the Verdant Rain Moon, 1180 _ **

When Dimitri arrived at the Monastery, he only had one goal in mind, and that was to appease the dead. The Academy provided every avenue he needed to accomplish this. He was stronger, smarter, and more disciplined. All that was left was to utilize the Church’s resources to uncover what he desperately needed: the truth. 

As he exited the library, unsuccessful once again, he cursed the Goddess for testing his patience. 

Dimitri had been researching for weeks now, and yet whatever truth he yearned for remained unattainable. He had hoped the Church’s extensive records would tell him anything about that day, but much of it was irrelevant, not what he needed, or books that repeated the same story again and again with veracity he knew was dubious at best. 

He had been slacking in his goals lately, something he hadn’t expected to happen. He had hoped Rodrigue’s appearance would set him straight, a reminder of his old life, but even that was unable to correct him. 

He eased himself into Academy life more comfortably than he imagined. What he saw as a tool was becoming something that he became more and more invested in as time wore on. His friends and his classmates became more important as the days passed.

He cared more than he should have.

As a result, the multitude of strange events were things his heart could not ignore. It seemed one mystery would beget another, conflicts leading to new conflicts, related or otherwise. First it was his puzzling professor, then it was Lonato, and then it was the enigma of the Sword of the Creator. Now, it was Miklan and his band of thieves wreaking havoc in Kingdom territory. 

The name put a foul taste on Dimitri’s tongue. He knows what kind of a man Miklan is, but the situation was still one all too terrible. A man destroyed by the system of Crests now must receive retribution from the Kingdom that abandoned him. Sylvain seemed eager to “fix the mess once and for all,” but even Dimitri felt some cold hesitation in his friend’s words.

It was just another cruel play for the Goddess’ stage for them to partake in.

He arrived at the Dining Hall, his stomach taking him here of its own accord. After spending the morning hours of his free day wasting away on useless texts, his appetite was quite voracious. 

The prince looked at today’s menu and saw…fish. A _copious_ amount of fish. 

He shrugged. His palate wasn’t of any importance to him, anyway.

Dimitri grabbed whatever plate would fill him up the most and went to find the nearest seat. 

That was his plan until he saw that the Dining Hall was unusually packed.

He could have sworn there weren’t this many eaters when he entered, but the crowds of people filling the tables said otherwise. Was the fish really this good? There didn’t even seem to be any distinction between the groups. It was just a mishmash of whoever had managed to claim a free seat.

He sighed and wondered if today was preparing itself to be as obnoxious as it could be.

Dimitri checked for any possible openings to no avail. He clicked his tongue in defeat. 

Perhaps he could just take his meal to his room? 

The idea of walking such a distance dissuaded him. He also doubted he could carry a plate that long without breaking it somehow.

As he mulled over possible options, his eyes landed on an area free of space near the back of the Dining Hall. Salvation close at hand, he prepared to make his way there when he noticed that the empty spot was right next to a certain student eating alone. 

The Goddess was taunting him, he was sure of it.

He watched Marianne pick at her dish in solitude, her choice to eat alone obviously an intentional one. He double checked the room once more for any other opportunity to save him, but it was fruitless. 

He had scolded himself for getting invested in issues that weren’t pertinent to his mission, but the Edmund girl was someone that he just couldn’t seem to forget. She had told him to stay away from her, and he had obliged, reluctantly. He spent days after wondering what he had done that had perturbed her so, and it was a problem he never found an answer to, much to his guilt. They went nearly a month without contact until that day in the Mausoleum. He feared she would leave him right then and there when they met, but she graciously tended to his injuries. And when she did, he found that he missed the little moments of quiet they shared. He missed the feeling of relaxing by just being near another, something she uniquely could do. 

And when she healed his face, and he glimpsed into her eyes what had evaded him last time, he discovered why she could do so. 

His debated going to his room one last time, but he relented and decided sitting next to her was the best decision. 

The fact that he also very much wanted to sit with her was just a coincidence. 

“Marianne?”

The lonely girl turned to him, her dark eyes and gloomy appearance filling his vision. She looked lost in thought.

“Oh. Yes?”

“May I sit here?” the prince cautiously asked. “There isn’t another open spot…”

She checked behind him to see the raucous dining crowd. “Um, you may,” she said, tentatively. Uncertainty flashed throughout her face. 

Not wanting to frighten her any more than necessary, he whispered a thanks and took his spot. 

He ate quietly, every bite being chewed as loosely as possible as if large jaw movements would cause the girl to flee. His eyes turned, but his head remained still. He saw that her plate was clean of food. Dimitri wondered why she hadn’t left, then. 

With every action he did being made with restraint, he remembered how every interaction he had with her had been like this. Tiptoeing around boundaries that he couldn’t see and maneuvering through barriers and lines that threatened to break the peace between them. It was tiring, he had to admit.

He didn’t mind it so much with her.

Dimitri slowly worked through his meal, piece by piece. Marianne, for whatever reason, stayed next to him. Wordless seconds became minutes, and soon enough, the once stuffed Dining Hall emptied out. Loud noise became a relaxed ambiance. 

He finished the last of his fish and set his utensils down. Marianne hadn’t spoken a word or moved at all since he sat. He cursed himself that he may have been insensitive.

“I'm sorry…I should have eaten in my quarters,” he confessed, the first words spoken between them since he had asked for her permission. “I know you asked me to stay away from you.”

“No. It’s fine,” she replied readily like she was waiting for him to finally speak. “About the other day, when you said you didn't regret risking your own life…”

His head picked up when he sensed an opportunity to right his wrong. “I apologize for whatever foolish thing I said to upset you, truly,” he insisted. “But…may I ask what happened?”

He saw her hands ball up into fists. She put them together in hopes of preventing it. “It’s just… There is only misfortune for whoever comes near me.”

“Misfortune?”

“I’m afraid so.” She looked away from him bitterly. “Especially those with complete disregard for their own safety.”

He felt something mentally click into place. “Ah, so I didn't offend you. You're trying to tell me I should be more concerned for my own safety. Well, I suppose I could improve in that regard.” He felt an exorbitant amount of relief wash over him. A month of worrying over his own misconduct evaporated away once he learned that she was only worried for his own life. It was kind of her, though he wished she had chosen a different way of expressing it. 

He took issue with the other part of her sentiment, however. “As for you causing misfortune, I think that's far from the truth,” he told her. A quaint smile took his face. “In fact, I find you to be a lucky charm of sorts.”

Dimitri recalled all the times they had unknowingly collided with each other. The night at the pond where Marianne first helped him had given him an answer to their lack of magic healers. Their first mission together ended with her saving Dedue’s life from that bandit. He had saved her at Magdred Way, and, in turn, she saved him. 

The more he thought about the idea, the more he realized how reliable she had been.

A lucky charm…he liked the sound of it.

Conversely, Marianne heavily disagreed. “Me? Lucky?” she asked incredulously. “I'm sorry, but I don't agree with that at all. My entire life up until this point has been nothing but a string of unfortunate events.” Her voice was filled with many emotions and feelings. She sounded angry and upset. Her words dripped with pain and sorrow. Most of all, he felt the large amounts of guilt that seemed to be pent up within her. The type of guilt that builds from years of suffering inside from the consequences of one’s abidance to living. 

Dimitri felt that he was privy to Marianne’s innermost thoughts. The way she spoke made his heart hurt. He replied, softening his voice. “But misfortune finds us all. Perhaps those around you have suffered or even perished but look at you. You're still here, alive and well.”

“That’s…” She was shaking, slightly. Her tone was wary and unbelieving like she had heard the message of his words before and that accepting them would only invite hurt. 

But when he looked at her, her gentle and dispirited self, he was reminded of what he saw in the Cathedral when she had her hand to his face and her eyes narrowed in focus. He was reminded of what he saw on that night with the rods, their meeting in the library. Her feelings, her actions, her words, they all fell into place for him.

Everything made sense. 

“It doesn't feel good, does it...to be the one left behind? You feel guilt for not dying along with the others.” 

Her eyes went wide. “H-how did you know?” she asked, mortified by her darkest secret laid bare.

“You and I are the same,” he said, solemnly. He was always aware there was familiarity in her eyes whenever he looked deep into them, but he never deciphered what truly made it so. It wasn’t just sadness. Sorrow is present in everyone, and hers wasn’t just that. But when she mended his wound in the Cathedral that day, he saw guilt. Guilt that she should have been with them, that she should have been hurt alongside them. 

She had the same feeling in her eyes that he had when his family and friends left without him that day, when he had stayed behind when he didn’t deserve to. 

He didn’t know what she had lived through, but she was the same.

The idea that there was someone that felt the way he felt…

“Maybe you should fear being cursed with misfortune for coming near me,” he said whimsically, the idea entertaining him. He didn’t expect it to entertain her as well.

“Hehe.”

The sound was soft and sweet. The smile on her face was the nicest he had ever seen on the poor girl.

“Ah, a smile and a laugh. Coming from you, that's a rarity.” He was surprised, but the content look she had and the almost sugary giggle she let loose made him feel lighter than air. He wished to see more of it. He smiled. “This must be my lucky day.”

“I just find the idea amusing,” she said through her smile. “It's strange to think that someone like you could have anything in common with me.”

He paused. That’s what it was, wasn’t it, their shared experience making him feel like this? 

Perhaps this was why he always felt so calm when they were together. Because there was understanding between them.

“Is it so terrible a thought?” he pondered.

Marianne shook her head, the angelic upturn of her lips present again. “No, no. It's not that. It actually makes me happy.” 

Happy? Dimitri’s heart fluttered that she felt so. If what he felt was real, then someone like her was deserving of such a feeling.

And when she turned to him, willingly, her eyes crinkled by her tender smile, he caught a glimpse of joy that brightened her being. 

“As though there's finally someone who understands how I truly feel…”

_Understands how I truly feel…_

There was great solace in the notion. 

And if what he saw in her was so like him, then he hoped, for the first time in a long while, that the face she gazed upon was reflective of the one in front of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you look at that, another chapter that I have to split into two parts. I have too much hubris, and god shall punish me so. 
> 
> Truthfully, I'm sorry if anyone is upset that this story seems to be dragging along. I just have so much I want to write. Hope you understand.
> 
> Thanks for reading like always


	8. Verdant Rain Moon (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Learning more about the other

**_6:20 a.m. on the 11th day of the Verdant Rain Moon_**

“You didn’t have to accompany me…” Marianne walks under the early light, dawn just barely breaking the sky. Her friend beside her let out a comical yawn and blows her pink hair from sticking to her lips. She pats Marianne on the back affectionately.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hilda reassured her. “Besides, I haven’t seen your friend in a while. I owe him some thanks.” 

Marianne smiles at hearing Hilda’s acceptance. 

She realizes, also, that with the amount of time the Goneril lady has spent lazing about with or cleaning after her, Hilda has become a reliable companion.

It’s…pleasing to think that Marianne could call someone such a thing, no matter how much she will try to rationalize it differently.

They strolled past the Marketplace, the sounds of the vendors preparing for the day filling the calm morning. The Gatekeeper surprisingly greeted them as they walked by, but even the early hours couldn’t deter the energetic watchman from readying his post.

The scents of hay and leather entered their nostrils as the two noblewomen entered the Stables. Marianne inhaled the smell, something she had familiarized herself with more and more with the area becoming a staple part of a daily routine. A friendly neigh followed by several snorting sounds made her smile smally. Dorte waited for her patiently, but the excited sways and steps made the horse’s feelings clear.

Hilda strode past her in a way that was both groggy and full of energy. The pink-haired girl giggled as stopped beside Dorte, the animal nuzzling her. “Aww, good morning, Dorte! You remember me!”

The horse neighed again while pushing himself into Hilda’s petting palms. Marianne delighted in the sight of her two close friends getting along. 

She grabbed a fistful of hay placed nearby and went to meet her animal comrade. Dorte whinnied and happily began munching on the spoils. He placed his head in Marianne’s arms, and she laughed softly.

“Hello, my friend. How good it is to see you.”

Ever since the Harpstring Moon, Marianne’s attachment to Dorte has grown into a strong relationship. He was a hardy war horse, the soldiers told her, but he was headstrong meaning only skilled riders were allowed near him. Dorte’s affection for her had certainly been a shock to the soldiers that could barely keep him in line. 

“I hope they’ve been treating you nicely,” she whispered into his ear as he dragged a hand through his mane. Marianne knew how rough some riders were. “You’re very strong for being able to put up with those brutes.” Dorte neighed in response, fully understanding.

Hilda watched the two, one of the very first who Marianne let know of her affinity for the battle steed. The blue-haired girl stepped away to gather more hay, and Hilda took the opportunity to speak freely with the animal. 

“Heya, Dorte,” she cooed. “You have a really good pal, you know that?” 

Dorte snorted and made a nodding motion. 

“Hehe. That’s good. Thanks for taking care of her too! Protect her from bad guys, okay?” 

Hilda laughed giddily when the horse nuzzled her face, an acceptance of his mission. 

Marianne came back to Hilda whispering in Dorte’s ear like a schoolgirl whispering secrets scandalous secrets with her colleagues. When she thought about Hilda, though, the description wasn’t exactly disingenuous. She almost asked the other girl what she was chirping about before the slacker stepped away and stretched her arms above her head.

Hilda sighed in relief. “Oh, this was fun, Marianne. Dorte is a sweetheart.”

“Ah. He is, isn’t he?” 

“Mhm.” The Goneril girl nodded and another yawn escaped her. “Getting up early is so very not my style, though. I don’t think I could do this regularly.” As if to hammer home her point, Hilda leaned against Dorte dramatically, eliciting giggles from the two girls. 

“You don’t have to tarry for me any longer,” Marianne said. “Thank you for coming along.”

“It’s my pleasure. I’ll see you in class!” 

Marianne waved her goodbye, Hilda waving back as she turned the corner towards the Marketplace. 

Dorte let out another noise demanding Marianne’s affections. She let out a satisfied sigh and embraced her equine friend. 

… 

Dimitri wasn’t one to complain about waking early. He enjoyed the morning hours and late-night atmospheres, truthfully. Being awake when the world was asleep was always something he relished. It felt as if he was experiencing a different world hidden from living life. 

He rounded the corner to the Stables from the Marketplace, trudging up the steps while avoiding the slumbering cats. The professor had assigned him Stable Duty last minute for the end of the week. Dimitri hasn’t worked in the Stables since the first few weeks of the year when he was forced to. He needed to brush up on his way around the Stables again before his hour came. He enjoyed working with the horses, but Stable Duty was a laborious task.

Walking, lost in his own thoughts, his honed battle-instincts barely saved him from colliding with the person in front of him.

“Woah!” 

A high-pitched yelp shocked him, and he took a step back from the poor soul he had almost rolled over. Brightly colored hair was the first thing he registered. The next was the pouting face.

“That’s not exactly the first way you want to greet a lady.” Hilda looked at him disapprovingly.

“My apologies, Hilda. I wasn’t paying attention.” He bowed for forgiveness to her, though, after processing past his initial embarrassment, he raised an eyebrow. 

“What’s that look for?”

“I’m sorry…but I never took you one as an early riser.”

Hilda let out an exaggerated, mock gasp. “Your Highness!” she exclaimed, stunned. Dimitri almost feared that he genuinely upset her before she continued. “You’re absolutely right! I hate waking up early!”

“I…see.” 

Dimitri has met many characters at the Academy, all varying in complexity. Even then, he has managed to keep in good relations with many of them. Still, Hilda just so happened to hit a certain blend of confusingly kind and sweetly threatening that made put him in a state of social disarray every time they chatted. 

“What’re you doing here so early, Your Highness? 

He felt that he should be the one asking that question, but he only let himself entertain his thoughts. “I am heading to the Stables,” he answered simply. 

Without missing a beat, the sweet aura from the girl switched to another feeling entirely, her smiling face and eyes feeling just a bit more strained. 

“Oh? For what, may I ask?” Her tone wasn’t one of friendly curiosity. Why was it that whenever Dimitri spoke with women, he felt like he was always being threatened?

“Just…Stable Duty. I wanted to inspect some things before I work later.”

She eyed him suspiciously, so much so that Dimitri had to remind himself that he wasn’t guilty of anything. Hilda gave him one final look over before shrugging her shoulders in acceptance. 

“Alright then! Don’t let me keep you!” She skipped past him innocently, but not before singing out one last time. “Just remember that the Golden Deer _see all!_ ”

He didn’t turn to watch her go. 

He dragged his palm across his face.

It was too early for this.

Arriving at the Stables this early meant that the usual activity of horses and riders were absent. Many of the steeds were still stabled, and he went to check on the diligent beasts. Dimitri had let his teacher know of his interest in learning the techniques of cavalry and horseback riding much like his father once had. His hands roamed over the several horses, each touch a moment of connecting with the animal. Perhaps one of these creatures would be a partner of his soon. 

The prince acquainted himself with the locations of various tools and equipment he would need to work with in the future. Arduous as it may be, being a stable hand reminded him of his earlier days as a child where he would spend hours with the knights’ mounts treating and tending to them, his father’s horse especially. The king’s charger was a lifelong friend and he rode accompanied him on all ventures.

Dimitri frowned. 

_All ventures…even to the last._

Unexpected movement took his periphery, and he looked to find a solitary horse out of its enclosure, an odd sight. Had a careless worker let the horse escape on its own?

He approached it from the side, making sure the animal had a clear view of his arrival. The steed clearly took issue with him as it flared its nostrils and bared its teeth. Dimitri stopped and took a step back as the horse threatened to advance on him.

This was an oddly defensive creature.

Despite its hostility, Dimitri marveled at the frame and stature of the horse. It was certainly a war horse from its stout body accentuated by its strong muscles. He feared of ever going against such a beast.

Not wanting to risk taking a kick to the head, he looked around for any stable hands. The barren area suggested that many of them were still getting ready. 

“Dimitri?”

That soft voice he’s come to hear more of surprised the prince.

“Marianne?”

The girl appeared from behind, a large bucket struggling to be lifted by both her hands. It was filled to the brim with water. The dark spots beneath her eyes looked much more intense under the light of dawn, but the gentleness of her gaze didn’t disappear. 

“I…wasn’t expecting to see you out here,” she said. 

“Oh…I apologize.”

He mentally slapped himself. There was no need to apologize. But he was caught off guard, unprepared to speak with the girl whom he had just recently had a revelation with. 

Their conversation yesterday was real, he reminded himself. An unforeseen link between the two of them that he finally uncovered had made him view her in a completely new light. Companionship from guilt, connection through loss, things only they knew. She felt comforted by it, from what she told him. 

He felt something too. 

But the feeling didn’t linger long as Marianne had left him quickly right after. Whether from having Dimitri exposing her insecurities or just fleeing from him in general, he didn’t know, but they had not seen each other until now.

The girl shook her head. “It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” 

She stood away from, unsure of what to do. At least he wasn’t alone in feeling indecisive. Would they bring up yesterday’s conversation? Or should they leave it be, and let it fade into the wind as if it never occurred?

Her arms started to shake from the weight of the heavy pail. 

“Do you need help with that?” he asked, making his way towards her. 

“Oh. It’s fine, I swear. I can handle this…” 

Yet when he reached for the handle of the bucket and took it to his hands, she didn’t resist. He lifted it easily, one hand taking it to his side where he wrapped an arm around it. 

“Okay,” he let out after securing it, “where to?” He readied himself for a moment only to see her looking at him astonished with eyes wrinkled in disbelief. “Is something the matter?”

She reached out slowly and tapped the bucket. “I was…sure that was heavier.”

Oh. Right.

“Ah. Well, I’m…strong?” he said lamely.

Not looking entirely convinced, she nodded anyways. “Okay…um. Can you follow me?”

He did as he was told and walked closely behind her. Dimitri had no problems doing so until he realized she was nearing the unruly horse from earlier.

“Marianne, wait-” he tried to call out, but she kept moving forward. He nearly dropped the bucket to rush her away from a devastating kick only to see the aggressive beast from earlier playfully nudging and prodding her with its nose. She pet him, whispering sweet words into its ears.

Marianne jerked her head to let Dimitri know to come to them. Dumbfounded, he carefully tiptoed to the girl and her tamed weapon, unsure if an attack was lying in wait. When he thought he was sufficiently close enough, he set the pail down and quickly retracted. 

He observed how Marianne knelt and offered cold water to it, the horse lapping it up thirstily. She took out a towel and dipped it in and placed the soaking towel on the animal’s neck. 

Dimitri had several questions in mind, the first most being how such a shy and reserved girl had such a mighty beast under her spell. But as he continued to watch her, the young noble’s usually down expression lightened by apparent joy, he asked her. 

“Do you like horses, Marianne?”

She looked up at him, her expression brightening. “Oh, I do. I spend most of my free time caring for the animals here when I can. What about you?”

Her unexpected glee made Dimitri helpless from stopping his own smile from creeping up on him. “I do,” he replied. “I’ve fond memories of the creatures ever since I was a boy.”

“Yes. They’re such kind animals, aren’t they? Magnificent too.”

“Can you ride?”

“Only a little. I wish I could do more, though…” Her happy expression fell into something more somber, her smile feeling more distant. Her voice quieted, barely audible with the distance between them. “I…I’ve always loved animals. Beautiful beings capable of doing so much… To live among them is a blessing many don’t appreciate. What it would be to work as one with them.”

There was longing in her voice and want within her features. The pure sentiment made him think of what she said, his mind flashing images of nature’s life that he never truly had stopped to see.

Still unable to get close, he sat, his head level with the kneeling Marianne and the horse. He leaned his cheek into his palm as he continued to watch them from a distance. “That’s a very admirable view, Marianne. The world is lucky to have a soul like yours watching over its creatures.”

He knew she took to praise negatively, her next words showing so. “I wouldn’t say that…I don’t do much. I’m not very good at much, unfortunately.”

“It’s the truth,” he insisted. “There’s much to be proud of with how you feel. It’s commendable.”

He felt the unbreakable barrier that was normally between Marianne and him had been shattered with their last meeting. He may have let matters lie previously, but knowing her now, he felt as if he could say such things to her and, for once, have them matter. 

She was a sweet girl. He wanted her to know that.

Marianne didn’t reply. She let the morning silence stretch on between them. She leaned her head against her animal friend, and her eyes went to his. There was a question in them asking if it was okay to really accept his words to her. 

He let his own make the answer clear.

Words spent, the two let the noise of the drinking horse take charge instead. He closed his eyes while letting the sounds of the rising world fill the empty space in his head. How many times have they spent time together now, in quiet like this? 

Sensing more and more time passing by, he stood. Marianne did the same with the horse finishing the last of its drink. 

“Thank you for helping me,” he heard her say, the timid persona he was used to seeing on the girl returning as her head aimed at the ground. “Dorte usually drinks a lot. It makes bringing his water more difficult.” 

“The pleasure’s all mine.” He gave the horse a quizzical look. “Dorte, hm? That’s a nice name. Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. It was nice meeting-”

The horse reared and neighed at him in his attempt to pet him, Dorte towering over him on his hind legs. He jumped back in fright and may or may not have let out a yelp. 

Dimitri placed a hand on his chest to ease his racing heart, his cheeks red with embarrassment. 

“Oh my,” Marianne muttered. She looked between Dorte and him before a quaint smile overtook her. She placed her hand over it to stifle her giggling. “Hehe…ah, forgive him. He’s not usually like that.”

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t somewhat offended that Marianne’s friend had not taken a liking to him, but the sheepish grin on him didn’t leave. 

If he could hear her sound like that, he supposed he could let his own feelings aside.

* * *

**_ 1:45 p.m. on the 24th day of the Verdant Rain Moon _ **

Marianne tried to stay still in her seat, her sole bouncing up and down on the ground. Clinking silverware and porcelain sounded in front of her. Professor Byleth silently began pouring steaming tea into cups. 

She sighed. 

They were in a popular spot for tea parties, though the students that usually occupied the spot were absent. Marianne had heard that the professor had taken to a new habit of having tea with the students, but she didn’t imagine she would be in this situation.

How naive she was. 

In the middle of wondering whether to curse Ferdinand or Lorenz for the professor’s new behavior, a cup was presented to her. 

“Tea?”

The stoic man looked at her blankly. 

“Um…thank you.” She took the hot liquid and inhaled its scent. She was delighted. “Oh. Lavender tea is my favorite. Thank you, professor.”

The man only nodded as he took a sip. She followed suit and let the soothing aroma drown her senses.

Unfortunately, after she set her own drink down, she realized that that was all she could do. What was she supposed to do now? Social pleasantries were not her forte, and the teacher before her had…strange tendencies. He was currently working through his tea, eyes closed. 

Was she responsible for breaking the ice? Or was she supposed to wait? What could she even say? 

“Relax.” Her eyes shot up. The professor was observing her. “It’s okay. It’s just tea.”

Marianne awkwardly coughed. “I apologize…I’m afraid I’m not very good at conversation.”

“That’s fine,” he said flatly. “It’s just tea.”

She wondered how Ferdinand and Lorenz thought it was a good idea to give this man a tea set and not confirm whether he had proper tea etiquette.

It wasn’t all bad, she reconciled. At least he had no expectations for her. 

The ex-mercenary nibbled off a bite of pound cake before returning to her. “How are your classes, Marianne?”

“Hm? They’re fine, I suppose. I’m doing okay.”

“That’s good.”

“...”

“...”

The professor took another sip of his tea. Marianne tried not to shrivel up and die. 

Even with all the professor’s quirks that made him different than others, she was still uncomfortable in one-on-ones like this. She was never good at talking or letting some banter fill the air. At least some of her classmates could talk themselves a conversation like Hilda, but too many expected something of her, unknowingly or not. 

“I’ve been told you’re interested in learning more about horseback riding.” 

She perked up, surprised. “Uh. I am. How did you know?”

“Someone informed me,” was all he said. “The Blue Lion house specializes in teaching its students the mounted arts, a tradition mostly taken from Faerghus. For other houses, we can offer some of these lessons to those that are wanting to learn.”

“Is that so?” she asked, hopeful. The professor nodded.

Visions of herself riding on horseback made themselves known again. She had let her aspirations dwindle, having given up on them earlier in the year. She never did see if it was still possible for her to learn.

“They are supplementary lessons,” the professor explained. “That means you’ll have to take extra time out of your day if you want to participate.”

“Please,” she said quickly, “I could do it. It’ll be fine.”

Professor Byleth nodded, accepting her. The thought of learning more about what she enjoyed excited her. At least, she assumed it was excitement. It was a peculiar feeling, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“We’ll have to start by the next moon, if that’s fine with you,” the professor added. “I’m currently focused on my class’ current assignment.”

Current assignment. She remembers the Blue Lions emerging from the Holy Mausoleum.

“What is it, if I may ask?” 

“A band of thieves have stolen a relic from one of the Kingdom’s families. We’ve been tasked to retrieve it.”

“A heroes’ relic?” she repeated. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

The professor sighed. “I said the same thing. They think that since I have this though that we’ll be fine.” His hand rested atop the hilt of the Sword of the Creator. 

Marianne stared at the fearsome, bony thing. A class of students having to potentially face a weapon such as that seemed daunting. She feared for their safety. Especially if…

“Will you all be…okay?”

The man tilted his head. “It’s my duty to see them all through safely. Don’t worry about us.” He eyed her curiously. “Is something the matter?”

“Let me help,” she blurted out. Her hands balled into fists, fingers digging into her palm. What was she doing? 

The Blue Lion’s teacher looked confused. “Help? Are you sure? It’s usually the professor’s job to ask for assistance.”

A feeling of déjà vu overtook her, her body going back to her room when the professor asked for her assistance. The same questions wracked her mind as if they were mechanisms of defense put in place to deter her. 

_Could I do anything? There’s no possible reason I would be beneficial to them, right? What could I possibly do except bring misfortune and trouble?_

But the memory of her allies bloodied and exhausted made her pale. Mercedes, the older lady going limp and pallid made her tremble.

Dimitri, covered in wounds and bleeding, dying with guilt and leaving what they knew to her because she wasn’t there to help…

“Let me assist you,” she whispered, finally. “I need to do what I can.”

* * *

**_4:50 p.m. on the 31st day of the Verdant Rain Moon_**

The overcast sky threatened rain and an oncoming storm. The class and their soldiers moved as quickly as they could manage in hopes of not being caught under the precipitation. 

Marianne walked near the back of the march taking calculated steps to not lose her footing in any muddy terrain. She shivered. The several assignments she accompanied the Blue Lions on had them taking missions under the sunny sky. The only mission she remembers having weather such as this had been in Magdred Way.

She did her best to not let her paranoia take over. 

Her allies were overjoyed to learn that she would be assisting them again. Mercedes had just about hugged the life out of her. Now, though, as they made their way to the tower, this demeanor was anything but joyful. Many of them looked uncharacteristically cross, with Ingrid and Felix being more tense and on edge. Annette had been stalking the Knight of Seiros that was accompanying them, looking both worried and angry. There was a story there that Marianne felt she wasn’t allowed to read.

Sylvain had been the most different. Gone was the flirtatious, easy going philanderer. A dark, menacing energy seemed to radiate off him, his smile and words holding more malice than kindness.

Marianne hoped the day would pass soon.

…

Dimitri looked to the sky worryingly. Morale was already low. Getting soaked would only exacerbate the issue. He sighed and shook his head. The only thing he could do was hope they arrived before it poured.

He finished checking the states of his classmates. To his dismay, they were still in low spirits. He wasn’t surprised. It was almost as if too many factors have been set up to personally weather them down. 

He looked to the back of their formation to the only outsider perspective of the situation. He tapped Dedue’s back as the only warning for his departure and left before the boy could protest. 

“How are you holding up?” he asked the blue-haired girl, greeting her. 

“I’m holding,” she said flatly. 

Dimitri was surprised to hear Marianne would be returning to assist them, and of her own volition. He wondered if there was more to it, but the prince decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. He welcomed her back into their ranks. 

Of course, since she was added late into the month, she was bound to be left out of crucial details of this excursion. It was best to remedy the issue.

“Do you have any questions about our mission? I know you were only given the briefest of details.”

The young noblewoman’s expression didn’t change but she noticeably looked towards each of their comrades. 

“Everyone seems…tense. Like there’s more to this mission than just bandit hunting.”

He nodded grimly. “Yes. This mission is personal, in more ways than one.” Comedy wasn’t Dimitri’s strong suit, but even he found some dark humor in their class’ personal lives tainting their adventures.

“How so?” Marianne asked.

“The band of thieves we’ve been tasked to eliminate,” he began. “They’ve stolen the Lance of Ruin, House Gautier’s relic. Even worse,” he said, his eyes going to his redheaded friend, “intel has it that the leader of these marauders is Gautier’s disowned son, Miklan. Sylvain’s older brother.” 

He saw her eyes widen at the realization. “Sylvain’s brother? So, Sylvain…”

“Mm. We know Miklan all too well. Sylvain especially. I do not wish to speak ill of anyone, but that man…let’s say I’m not surprised in his life choices.”

Marianne’s lip pouted with her sight still trained on Sylvain. “Why did it happen this way? What happened with Miklan?”

Dimitri sighed. “Miklan was the firstborn son to House Gautier. He was the eldest son, and for all intents and purposes, he was to inherit everything. But then Sylvain was born.” 

Marianne’s brow furrowed, urging him to continue.

“The issue with Miklan and Sylvain is simple. Sylvain was born with the Crest of Gautier. Miklan was not.” 

Marianne’s face hardened at the mention of the Crest. Her expression darkened and her face went downcast. “They disowned him…because of his lack of Crest?”

“Yes. Sylvain was groomed from then on to inherit his father’s title. Miklan, of course, was furious. And he made Sylvain suffer because of it.”

Stories of Sylvain being “lost” in the mountains, the bruises and beatings he received from “training,” and “falling” into a well…the vile acts enraged Dimitri within. 

“How very awful,” Marianne breathed out. Her tone wasn’t reserved or withdrawn. There was anger and sharpness in her tongue as if her very words shook with fury.

He masked his startledness.

She was quiet then, Dimitri evidently hitting a topic of contention with her. Her next words were hushed, not for fear of being too loud, but for fear of going too far. 

“So, his life and Sylvain’s…the Crest drove them to this.”

“You could say that,” he agreed. “Unfortunately, it has become common practice in Faerghus for one to lose their ability to lead their house for a lack of Crest. Miklan, even my uncle, as well. He never ascended the throne despite being the eldest son because his blood betrayed him.” He shook his head with regret. “It’s a terrible thing. I can’t stand it.”

His declaration seemed to shock the girl, her head snapping up to him. 

“You do?” 

He looked at her, an unknowing need for affirmation plain across her face. “I do. Margrave Gautier was wrong with disown his son just because of Crests. Of course, there are reasons why such a practice has persisted for so long. These Crests can provide the means to protect…but look at how much they ruin as well. Two sides that stand in opposition to each other.”

“And what do you believe?” she whispered. Her question was asked as if the answer it wanted was one that would hurt her.

“What do I believe…” he repeated to himself. “I believe those with Crests and those without should acknowledge each other as individuals of the same kind. Crests shouldn’t dictate one’s worth absolutely. It’s not just Crests. Lineage, race, faith, ideologies…imagine a world where such a thing existed, where we move forward with what makes us similar, not different.”

“I see…”

“Crests don’t matter when it comes to one’s value. I don’t pick my friends by the power of their Crests.”

“Even me?”

The question made him glance at her. She was turned away from him. 

“Even you,” he answered. “I value you, Marianne. Not your Crest.”

Her mouth went inside itself, and her hands clutched the sides of her dress.

“Some people are unhappy because they don't have the Crest they want,” she murmured tightly. “And some are unhappy because they have a Crest they never asked for.”

Dimitri placed his hand on her shoulder. She was shaking like a leaf in the breeze. He rubbed small circles onto her in hopes of pacifying her. 

He didn’t know the entire picture of her struggle. It’s possible he never would. But the context of the issue and her words…he inferred enough.

With words failing him, he remained mute instead. Perhaps it was the best choice. Platitudes aren’t what one needs in times of distress. Sometimes it’s just a steadying hand.

And with his own lowering to her back, smoothing idle motions to relax her, he tried to be just that until she stilled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, that's swell, imagine people reading my stuff, that's wild.


	9. Horsebow Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to gain trust

**_ 7:10 p.m. on the 1st day of the Horsebow Moon, 1180 _ **

How many times was she going to isolate herself in the Cathedral? 

She sat in her pew bowing her head in silence, the act being the only way she could find peace in this time.

The Blue Lions’ mission was a success, but what was lost and what stayed behind lingered. The looks of abject fury on Sylvain’s face along with his friends when finally dueling with Miklan made their fight even more chilling. Years of pent up, unbridled disgust culminated in the four childhood friends fighting the source of their aggression. Felix’s uncharacteristic wrath, Ingrid’s discipline shaking under more primal instincts to fight, and Sylvain’s released rage powered by a lifetime of indignation made outsiders all too aware that this was a fight on a personal level they were not able to comprehend. 

Marianne distinctly recalls the way Dimitri held her back and boldly ordered the professor himself to “leave the swine to them.” A different kind of dark abyss she had come to sympathize herself with, one not wholly connected to the feelings of loss and guilt but still fueled by that haunting source all the same seeped into his expression. Manic eyes manifested then disappeared within a blink as if the prince remembered how to be. 

She worried for him.

But when Miklan was supposed to fall, his grip over their lives prepared to loosen, he changed.

Marianne shuddered. 

The grotesque form of that monstrosity Gautier’s disowned heir had become hadn’t left her mind since it had attacked them. The horror of his twisted body drooling with hate and thirsting for their lives, and it started with the Crest. 

Her breathing hastened. Is this what would become of her? Would the curse of her Crest transform her into a black beast that sought only destruction? 

Her beating heart slowed when footsteps slowed to a stop next to her. She let loose a deep breath as the weight of the visitor settled itself in the seat beside her. Marianne did not need to look to know who had come. There weren’t many people that went to her so readily.

There weren’t many people she felt fine with doing so. 

The boy next to her said nothing. He bowed his head, and she let him. The young man no doubt had several things on his mind to pray about. The past so closely related to him and his friends would demand a moment of reconciliation with his thoughts.

She also knew that he didn’t come here simply to pray.

“Dimitri,” Marianne said to him after a time. “Are you well?”

She heard him voice a vague utterance. “I am fine. And yourself?”

“I’m okay. There are more important people to be worried about.” 

The sentiment came out of her so easily. It’s what she’s believed for the longest time. But Dimitri looked affronted, expressing his disagreement with what she said. He may not like the truth of it, but his sympathy warmed her heart ever so slightly.

He sighed, choosing not to press her. “Felix won’t talk to me,” the prince said sadly, “but that isn’t exactly a new development. I can only assume he is coping.” Marianne was acutely aware of the way the son of Fraldarius treated his former friend. It upset her, both not knowing the circumstances between them and the harsh barbs that are thrown at the prince’s way, but it was not her business to pry. 

“Ingrid mourns,” Dimitri continued. “Not for Miklan, of course. She mourns for Sylvain, and the time that was lost. Parting with someone so ingrained into your life is always a struggle, no matter how painful it may have been.”

“And Sylvain?” she asked.

“Sylvain…” he trailed off, pondering to himself on how to put what he believes into words. “He’s as well as he can be for someone who has lost a brother. He’ll say so himself if you ask. But I see him staring at the Lance of Ruin with sorrow and regret in his eyes as if the lance itself is to blame for all this madness. Considering what it represents…maybe he’s right to do so.”

Marianne’s eyes narrowed. The Lance of Ruin, House Gautier’s relic, and the perfect symbol of the mayhem Crests can induce. She could see herself in Sylvain’s place suffering for having a Crest they never wanted. The thought of Crests made her blood burn, her hands palming her uniform. 

A comforting hand rested on her shoulder, reminiscent of yesterday’s march. Dimitri placated her, the corners of his lips turned slightly upwards and a gentle spark in his eyes. Another instance of him supporting her. She was always surprised at how a boy who could snap swords with his bare hands can make his touch as light as a feather. 

She let the tension exit her body. Dimitri pulled back when she was fully relaxed. 

The house leader leaned back in his seat. “To be frank, I’m not concerned with what they say,” he explained, referring to his three childhood friends. “I’m worried about what they aren’t saying. Letting things fester within before it’s too late would be less than ideal. Wouldn’t you say?”

One of his brows was raised as he looked at her pointedly, his implication to her clear. She pouted.

“Yes, it is. Do you need to divulge?”

It was a daring response, especially for her, and the look of shock on Dimitri’s face almost matched her own mortification of her sudden boldness. She did not get the opportunity to voice her regret before he let out a single laugh that resounded throughout the Cathedral. 

Was it inappropriate to find humor in their own shared shortcomings when they could improve upon them instead? 

Maybe. 

But it didn’t stop her from smiling along.

Dimitri exhaled a large breath, his entire diaphragm pushed into it. He leaned forward, hunching over with a wistful look on his face. 

“What do you pray for, Marianne?” It was a simple question, though she found the timing of it odd. 

“Many things,” she answered. “Tonight, I wished to ask the Goddess for Flayn’s safety.”

The atmosphere immediately grew somber, Dimitri’s expression growing more pained. 

“I see. It seems there’s just one tragedy after another these days since we started, hasn’t it?” She nodded. It was uncanny how events of dire circumstances seem to continue to appear. “I fear that all of this may not be a mere coincidence. There’s…something stirring.”

“What do you mean?” 

She frowned in worry. He was speaking rather ominously. Instead of an explanation, Dimitri only shook his head as if to discard his thoughts.

“I apologize. Pay it no mind. I just…ask that you take care of yourself. With so much going on, I would hate to see you harmed.”

Her body froze and her chest tightened in the way it did whenever she was met with sudden, genuine concern. It was a second nature response that Dimitri constantly triggered within her time and time again. 

She placed a hand to her heart.

“Will you do the same?”

His head snapped towards her, and she wondered, then, if he felt similarly. She was met with his soft smile. 

“I will,” he affirmed. He stood and offered his hand to her. “Will you pray with me?” he asked, the volume of his voice much softer. “I’m not a man that is strong in prayer, unfortunately. I would appreciate the assistance of someone such as yourself.”

She shyly turned away as she grabbed his hand, the subtle praise heating the sides of her face. 

“Of course. What do you want to pray for?”

He took a moment to think, letting the stillness enfold them by doing so. 

“For Flayn’s safety and return. And…for our own well-being, also.” 

For their own well-being? She thought of confessing to him that she never did include herself in her own prayers, not because of modesty, but because she saw herself as undeserving. But he wasn’t just asking for hers. He was asking for his own, as well, and maybe that’s why he told her to begin with. 

She thought of Flayn, the young girl returning safely, and she thought of the boy beside her continuing on. 

For his sake, she could entertain the idea of continuing with them.

She clasped her hands together and bowed her head, Dimitri following suit.

“Then let us begin…” 

* * *

**_ 11:05 p.m. on the 6th day of the Horsebow Moon, 1180 _ **

Maybe being confronted so starkly with Kingdom affairs had motivated him. Or maybe it was the unnerving stillness preceding a major event that he felt. 

Whatever the case may have been, he had gained a second wind. His quest had finally garnered new light.

His search was too broad when he began. Looking through records concerning the entire event of the Tragedy of Duscur was too wide and filled with inconsistencies, missing details, and bigotry that hindered his research. 

He had to be more precise.

Dimitri had to narrow the perspective. The perpetrators, their motive must have been aimed to weaken the Holy Kingdom. Enemies of the Holy Kingdom…may also be enemies of the Church.

He combed through the last decade’s records, from inter-country treaties, accords, and donations all centered on Faerghus and the Church.

Most everything was clean. Normal, even. But he stumbled upon something. 

A record of church donations from the nobility spanning several eras. Many names were familiar, the Blaiddyd name being amongst the donors. But there was an unexplained break. For years, the Church received a sizable sum of funds from one noble only to cut them off suddenly.

Lord Volkhard von Arundel. His uncle.

He stopped his donations in the year 1174. The same year he left the Kingdom and returned to the Empire with Edelgard. 

Only two years before the Tragedy.

He could very well be chasing wisps from nothing, but his heart accelerated at the discovery, and his blood burned. Could his Uncle be related? Is that why he left? What were his reasons?

Did Edelgard know?

Dimitri was aware of the leaps of logic and the bounds he was breaking past, but as his hands squeezed the corners of the table, leaving small cracks in its wake, he didn’t care.

There was a thread. A target.

Vengeance was still possible. 

"Nngh..." He clutched his head, a painful ache spreading through it. It took moments for it to pass.

His mind drifted to the past several months. So much had happened, and now there may be an end goal in sight. So much continues to happen…he had to survive. He had to. He promised them. He promised his father, his mother, Glenn, all those who died that day. He had to survive because he promised them, promised _her_ that-

Sounds of movement came from behind him, and in the dim light, he saw Dedue and the professor. He quickly placed away evidence of his snooping.

He would find his answers.

* * *

**_ 3:03 p.m. on the 7th day of the Horsebow Moon, 1180 _ **

“Thank you! This medicinal herb is supposedly quite useful when administered to a horse who is about to give birth. I’m going to mix this into her feed…” Realizing her excitement getting the better of her, it disappeared and was replaced by her bashfulness. Marianne bowed deeply to the professor. “I didn’t mean to trouble you,” she apologized.

“No worries,” Professor Byleth said flatly. As much as she hated asking others to assist her, she was inclined to believe the professor. He’s garnered a reputation around the Monastery completing tasks of whatever is asked of him and moving on to the next, one blank look at a time. Except, in Marianne’s case, he did not leave her. 

“Is there something wrong?” she asked. 

“The supplementary lessons in riding,” he explained. “We start tomorrow.”

Her spine went rigid, and her veins sparked in surprise. “T-tomorrow?”

The professor nodded. “Yes. Late afternoon, unfortunately, but it’s the only time available. Does that work with you?”

“Wait, are you sure? There’s…the incident happening right now.” Marianne forgot about her conversation with the man about training, her anticipation being lost in the chaos and confusion that was their last mission and now Flayn’s disappearance. 

“Believe me, I am aware of the importance of Flayn’s whereabouts. But circumstances don’t change the fact that students must learn what they came here for.”

It wasn’t the work she was worried about. “Is it really okay to be wasting time on me instead?”

“It’s not a waste,” he replied readily like he expected her question. Considering him, he probably did. “Everyone in the Church is doing their best to work towards Flayn’s retrieval. And let’s say I’m…turning up some things with my own investigation.” 

She was afraid to take the offer. It felt selfish, criminal even, to take valuable time away from a girl in need. But the professor said it wasn’t like that. Marianne could use this time because it is for _her_ , not anyone else. 

“Okay. I’ll be ready.”

“Good.” The professor nodded to himself. “Tomorrow, at the stables, bring the necessary equipment I have outlined to you.” He handed her a rolled-up tube of paper. She unfurled it.

_“To my love,_

_You do not know me, but I know of you. Your diligent demeanor, your wonderful hair, your perfect, dark skin and eyes. So young yet you have stolen my heart and make my womanhood-”_

The paper was taken from her with little resistance, her eyes wide open and face burning, mortified. 

“Sorry. That’s for Cyril.” The professor withdrew the letter and pulled another from his coat. Her hands, still frozen in place, were fitted with a different sheet, this time detailing the specific weapons, tools, and equipment needed for her training. “I’ll have our assistant ready to meet you at the Stables and escort you to the fields where we’ll begin. See you there.” 

“Javelins, a steel lance, a forged sword…where do I find these things? And assistant? Professor, wait, what about-”

She looked up to find him gone, his person already a small blip in the distance far away on the bridge. 

She sighed. 

Maybe Claude could help her.

* * *

**_ 4:00 p.m. on the 8th day of the Horsebow Moon, 1180 _ **

Coming into the year at the Academy, Marianne was admittedly not one of physical expertise. She was the farthest thing from intimidating, even called frail by some people. Luckily, months of hard physical training in both the mind and body had made her stronger than ever. She was leaner than just skinny, and her stamina had become an asset allowing her to carry on more than she ever thought she could.

This did not mean, however, that she could transport several soldiers’ worth of weapons on her back.

Javelins, lances, some axes, and swords she bought filled the sack she lifted over her shoulder. A bow and some arrows were even fitted in there despite not having to bring any because “if you’re gonna buy the swords, then you can get those archery tools on a discount” Claude explained to her. 

She struggled her way to the Stables, politely refusing any offers for help. By the time she arrived and gracefully plopped the sack of weapons against the walls, she had already begun regretting her string of decisions that led her to this point. 

Marianne, trying to control her breathing, stared at the weapons poking out of the bag. Magic, at least, was weightless until casted. She couldn’t imagine lifting those lances or swinging her sword if she could fire spells. 

Perhaps she was in over her head. It would be rude to call off the professor so late, but she could feign illness. Say the fever had struck her, or that the flu ailed her. With how she was feeling right now, maybe feigning illness wasn’t necessary. Anything to get out of disappointing-

“Are you okay?”

_Goddess, why?_

Releasing a deep breath and wiping the sweat from her brow before confronting the man who had found her in the middle of devising her plot, she looked up.

“Dimitri?”

The prince in blue watched her looking more confused than concerned. 

“You brought the weapons,” he noted, looking over her and at the collection of arms scattered haphazardly behind her. “You brought…a lot of weapons.”

“The-the professor said so,” she said, panting. “It was. On the list. Seven of each weapon.” She feebly held out the now crumpled sheet to him. The young man pored over it, a hand to his chin. 

“Marianne…this isn’t a ‘seven.’ It’s a ‘one.’” 

“Wha-” She grasped for the paper and reread it, her eyes zeroing in on the written number. “Oh.” The seven she remembered stressing overlooked much clearer now. Straighter. 

Dimitri chuckled embarrassedly, moving past her. “Um. No matter. More supplies aren’t a bad thing, of course.” He bent over and slung the retinue of steel over himself easily. “Catch your breath. We can head off in a bit.”

As much as Marianne wanted to question how he carried those weapons as seamlessly as one carries a cape on their back, she had another thought on her mind.

“‘We?’”

He let out a noise. “Ah, the professor asked me to assist in your training. I was glad to hear that you were interested in learning the Kingdom’s cavalry techniques taught to our house.” He smiled, a beaming thing that radiated pride. “I’m happy to help teach. I can assure you that the riders of Faerghus are second-to-none! We won’t disappoint you.”

The professor did mention an assistant, but she was expecting a normal trainer, not the prince leader himself. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” 

“Come now, it’s of no consequence. I agreed to help, after all.”

“That’s true, but…”

“Please, don’t fret,” he insisted. “I want to do this. Helping a friend with this, it’ll be fun. Wouldn’t you say?”

The dark voice in her mind that whispered the negative curses of her heart scolded her for dragging him unwittingly into this. But when he smiled at her like that, looking at her with a passionate care in his eyes, she couldn’t find herself disagreeing. 

She nodded meekly. He was very kind. Too kind. 

“Good, Now back to the task at hand…” He took the weapons inside one of the stalls and emerged, gently tugging along a sturdy mare. “This much steel is heavy, but it shouldn’t be a problem for her.”

As he affixed the objects for transportation, Marianne cautiously crept to the horse, petting it when she was near. 

“She’s quite attractive,” she observed. The gray coat of the mare reminded her of cloudy skies, somber nature that still portrayed a sense of beauty. Marianne hummed to her as the horse forced itself into her hand. “Is she your usual companion?”

“No, actually,” the prince said as he finished tightening the last of harnesses. “Though the stable hands say this one is very reliable. The usual mount I train with apparently gave birth yesterday.”

“ _Excuse me?”_

“Hm? What?”

Images of the horse birth she assisted with made themselves known again. She paled slightly. “Um. It’s nothing.” 

_Life is beautiful, this is life_ she repeated to herself, the same phrase she thought ad nauseum when pulling the foal out from the mother to keep herself from fainting. 

Dimitri seemed unaware of her flashbacks. He looked towards the sky, taking note of the time. “The professor should be expecting us soon. We should be ready to ride.”

“Oh, of course.” She stood up attentively before noticing an issue. “How are we riding there?” She stared at the one mare. “Are we both…”

She trailed off, becoming flustered at her own revelation. They would be riding atop the same steed. Marianne can’t remember the last time she rode with someone like that, not without thinking of her parents. 

_Is he going to lead? I hope I’m not too dirty. …Oh_ Goddess, _do I have to wrap my arms around hi-_

“The professor arranged two mounts for us.”

 _“_ Oh _._ Okay.” She pulled at her collar to let the air in. Marianne looked around her, though, and found no other being in sight. “Where’s the other?”

Dimitri nervously chuckled and moved to the outside of one of the stalls. “He’s here. It’s just…I think you should guide him here instead of me.”

He moved away from the stall’s entrance almost hurriedly. She tilted her head at him curiously, but when Marianne entered to retrieve her charge, his reasons became clear. An excited gasp flew from her as the head of a horse forced itself into her arms. She guided it out and happily returned the affections under the sky.

“Dorte!” Her animal friend was outfitted with light armor, but the playful behavior she was accustomed to with him was still the same. Dimitri stood off to the side keeping a safe distance from them. “I didn’t know he was allowed for students to ride.”

“He’s not,” the prince said, “but I told the professor about your affinity for him.” A sly look overtook him. “The professor has a surprising amount of sway in matters, in case you were curious.”

She didn’t have the immediate words to voice how she felt. It was a small gesture, maybe, but the prince accommodating her motivated solely by his heart was an experience she has yet to accept as normal. Why her of all people?

“Thank you.” 

It was the only thing she could say.

“Think nothing of it,” was all he said, spoken as if his foresight didn’t influence her. He stared at Dorte and gave him a small wave. “Hello, Dorte.” 

The horse neighed at him threateningly and turned away from him. 

“Okay. Understood.”

She giggled at the interaction. Everything seemed so candid to her, true events that brought warm feelings into her and not manufactured attempts to force her to smile. Things that appeared to only happen when with the young crown prince. 

Sounds of the Faerghus nobleman mounting his steed entered her ears. “It’s about time to make our departure. Are you ready?”

Dorte lowered himself, invitingly. Dimitri waited for her. 

Marianne made her first steps onto the saddle.

She was ready.

… 

Their horse trotted towards the rolling training fields a bit outside of Garreg Mach, a ten-minute ride if they continued at this pace if Dimitri was telling the truth. They spent half their ride enjoying the noise of nature, Marianne relishing the ambiance under the shade of the towering trees that. She had imagined many times riding atop Dorte appreciating the captivating life of the natural world, and now, it was real. How she wished this could be a recurring thing. 

Of course, when she daydreamed of this moment, she the only person within it was her. She glanced over to her riding partner, the boy seemingly cherishing the atmosphere as well. 

Marianne could settle with sharing these instances, she decided.

The journey remained the way it had been, little exchanges being few and far between.

“You look happy.”

His voice shook her from her thoughts, and she turned to find the boy apparently studying her intently. She waited for him to say more to see if there was anything else to accompany his statement. Instead, he stared at her wordlessly. He stared and didn’t stop.

“Um…do I?”

She shied away from the intense gaze, turning elsewhere. He may have finally noticed behavior as he too snapped his head away from her. He cleared his throat, awkwardly, in hopes of covering himself. 

“You do,” he eventually continued. “You’re looking up more. Taking everything in. You seem to be enjoying yourself.” 

“Oh. Is that bad?”

“No, it’s good. It’s a nice look for you. I enjoy watching it.”

“ _Oh.”_ It was an odd thing to say. It was odder when heat filled the sides of her face. 

“Err, I mean, I enjoy watching to see that you-it’s good to see you’re-good that you’re enjoying yourself and…things.”

She assumed the word vomit the prince expelled was a compliment. 

Whatever Dimitri was trying to convey left them both at a loss for words. The quiet that surrounded them was accentuated by chirping birds and the whistling leaves in the wind. 

The sensation that normally came with this wasn’t the one she was expecting. It was charged, though not negatively, and her stomach felt light. There was a strange stirring in her chest. Was she taking ill? 

Whatever began to plague her left itself when Dimitri spoke again. “I am surprised that you’ve decided to spend today training. I would’ve thought you’d have joined your fellow housemates to partake in festivities.”

“Festivities?”

“Yes. Today is the day the Alliance celebrates its founding, is it not?”

Her head went through its mental calendar. The 8th day of the Horsebow Moon: Leicester Alliance Founding Day.

“So it is,” she answered offhandedly. Dimitri frowned, probably from her lack of enthusiasm for her homeland.

“Is there a problem with it?”

“No. It’s not that.” Her brain drudges up memories of her life, memories she associates with what she calls home. She sees vividly the beautiful earth her home in the countryside boasted. Her recollection of those carefree days lazing under the sun in the company of her parents or whatever life the world threw her way was clear. Still, she could never envision them how they truly were without the muted filter that tainted them as every memory of those times were brought down by a future that would make their remembrance painful. “The Alliance is good. There’s just not much that I can feel personally proud for.” Flashes of the past three years are filled with instances of longing, regret, and suffering all within a manor far from where she was born that managed to feel empty despite being full of life. Her view of the Alliance is no longer colored by the sprawling landscapes of her rural upbringing but instead by bickering dukes and nobles set to battle for themselves around the gray stone table they situate themselves around. 

“I see. That’s understandable.” Dimitri could sense her mixed feelings. Refusing to end his curiosity with a dreary note, she used her own in hopes of instilling something better for him.

“What of Faerghus?” she asked. “What can you say of the Kingdom?”

“Faerghus…” he said, almost whispering longingly. A small light arose in his eyes. “It’s a complicated land. But it is what I call home, and I am proud of that.”

“Complicated?”

“The land is harsh, and the weather is unforgiving at times. Many areas suffer from middling ground to grow crops, and the notorious cold of the region is probably just how you’ve heard from stories.” His tone was solemn, and hints of helplessness in his voice were present. But a swelling pride and fondness filled his next words. “However, despite Faerghus’ imperfections, its people have made it their own. They’ve toiled its ground, braved its brutality, and settled in. They’ve fought and died for it. They’ve lived in it. In doing so, the people of the Kingdom have created something far more glorious than any other land. They’ve made something beautiful.”

His impassioned emotion struck a chord within her. The expression on his face was as genuine as any she’s witnessed on him, the evident joy and care for his home creating the picture of a perfect nobleman. For the first time, she remembered that she wasn’t only speaking to a boy sensitive to her, but to a leader, a prince sensitive to his citizens and strove deeply to honor and their Kingdom. 

“Your home is close to your heart,” she remarked.

“It is. Circumstances and traditions have prevented me from taking the throne, but when I can, I will make Faerghus a land all will want. I will make it a land where no one will suffer. I will…after I’ve done what must be done.”

Marianne trembled at his conviction. Lofty ideals and perfect worlds were dreams she’d call foolish, unviable in the savage reality that is life, yet when Dimitri spoke with such fervor and passion, she could nearly make out a world of the one he spoke of. 

A world she’d like to live in.

Their horses trotted along, their hooves clacking on the ground close to their destination when Dimitri posed a question to her.

“Have you ever been to the Kingdom, Marianne?”

“Me? I can’t say that I have.”

“It’s a charming place, despite what I’ve said. It possesses its own fair share of breathtaking sights.” There was a short lull before he looked at her fully. “Perhaps you can see for yourself one day. Fhirdiad, my home…I’d love to show you the sights I’ve grown to adore.”

His offer made her turn away. That peculiar sensation she felt earlier reemerged, the feeling amplified. She never entertained a future where she’d travel farther than her land and Garreg Mach. But with the prince outstretching the metaphorical hand to her to a destination far down the line, she began to consider the possibility of being alive when it arrived.

“I…look forward to it.”

* * *

**_ 3:56 p.m. on the 9th day of the Horsebow Moon, 1180 _ **

Dimitri stretched his limbs as he waited in the Stables. His mount was already prepared, and it would only be a matter of time before they would ride.

Marianne’s first lessons with the professor yesterday were…standard, to put it simply. It was clear that she was a rider only in leisure and not battle. Still, the training was intended to make her experienced, and if her agreement to continue her training for the rest of the week was indicative of her enthusiasm, she was not deterred. 

He was glad.

When the professor told him of Marianne’s situation, he eagerly accepted to help. Perhaps too eagerly. But Dimitri was the closest of the Blue Lions to Marianne, and that would help ease the reserved girl into an unfamiliar environment. 

That’s how he explained it to the professor, anyway.

Now, he waited for her, his mind floating back to their conversations yesterday. The more he thought of them, the easier he came to accept that the young woman was becoming somewhat of a close acquaintance to him. 

His surprise when Dedue made note of how often Marianne’s name slipped into their conversations also clued him in. 

He sighed and held his hand in his face. 

He stood alone in his area waiting for the blue-haired brooder. She’d be arriving around the same time, so he had moments to spare. He decided to spend them finishing up any last arrangements to make their exit quicker.

This inevitably led to the prince standing before the entrance to the stall of one rather unruly creature. 

Unruly only to him, much to his chagrin. 

He tapped his foot on the ground. This was simple. He only needed to bring him out and outfit the saddle on him. Marianne could do the rest. 

It was simple.

Safe.

As the seconds ticked by with the prince still glued to his spot, he shrugged in annoyance. 

_I’m better than this._

With renewed energy, he entered the stall. 

Dorte was at the far wall and aimed at him as if expecting Dimitri’s arrival. The lighting casted ominous shadows over the horse making the scene far more intimidating than it had any right to be. 

“Hello, Dorte.”

The horse blinked lazily. 

“I really do think there’s some unneeded animosity between us, don’t you think?”

The horse remained unmoving. Dimitri raised a hand and slowly approached.

“I’m going to lead you out. Is that okay?”

With every step closer, Dorte did nothing. He let out a breath.

“See? Nothing wrong here, my friend. Just a little-”

His hand made contact with Dorte, and the beast neighed loudly. It bared its teeth at him and charged him. Dimitri stumbled backwards tripping over himself. On his rear, he quickly scrambled on his hands and legs out of the cage of the monster and back into the open air. Dorte stopped just short of the entrance and let out one last sound to assert his superiority over the disgraced royal. 

Dimitri panted to rest his racing heartbeat and watched the horse stare at him from within its palace.

“Dimitri?”

Marianne looked down at him, bewildered. 

“...hello.”

A small whinny emanated from the stall, and he quickly made space between himself and the horse. Dorte emerged from his quarters and quickly began showering Marianne with endearments. 

“Good afternoon, Dorte,” she giggled. “Are you ready for another lesson?”

The young boy watched the two, baffled. 

“I’m beginning to think Dorte has an issue with me,” he finally commented. Marianne, remembering his presence, laughed airily. 

“He’s just protective,” she explained. “There’s nothing else to it.”

He wanted to explain how the horse’s attempted trampling of him wasn’t just “protective,” but he held his tongue. Marianne’s smile pacified the prince somewhat. 

“I left a sword sheath behind the stalls,” he called out. “Do you mind fetching it for me before we go, Marianne?”

The girl looked to where he directed her. “Of course. Just a second.” 

As she disappeared for his equipment, Dimitri carefully encroached upon Dorte’s space. He eyed the horse suspiciously, the animal mindlessly grinding hay between its molars.

Dimitri crossed his arms. 

“I will win your favor, Dorte.”

If Dimitri didn’t know any better, he would have sworn the bray Dorte let loose was an acceptance of his challenge.

* * *

**_ 3:55 p.m. on the 10th day of the Horsebow Moon, 1180 _ **

Dimitri stared angrily at his opponent. Dorte stared back unflinchingly, almost arrogantly.

Marianne arrived and gazed at the Faerghus royal strangely.

“Hello, Dimitri…did you do some work beforehand. You look awfully sweaty.”

“Yes, sweaty,” Dimitri repeated through gritted teeth as he took a rag and wiped the large amount of horse spit off his face, “that’s what this is.”

* * *

**_ 3:57 p.m. on the 11th day of the Horsebow Moon, 1180 _ **

“Is there a reason you gathered us here, Your Highness?” Ingrid’s question went unanswered as she and Ashe watched the prince engage in a nonverbal dialogue with some steed. 

“Ingrid,” he called. “Approach this one, will you?”

Ingrid looked to Ashe for an explanation only to find him staring back equally perplexed.

“Yes, Your Highness…”

She walked towards the animal and nonchalantly petted the thing as it leaned into her. 

“Interesting…” Dimitri observed. “Ingrid, step away. Ashe.”

The commoner, fidgeting, slowly converged on Dorte’s position. When the prince did nothing, Ashe relaxed himself and laughed when the charge playfully nudged him.

Ingrid and Ashe heard their leader growl irritated. 

“Oh. Hello, everyone.” The soft-spoken Marianne joined them, the girl making her way to her trusty steed. She held a bag out to Dimitri. “I brought the whetstones that the professor asked for.”

“Ah, thank you.” He reached for it. “That should be-”

The animal aggressively put himself between Dimitri and Marianne, shooing him away. The young man retracted, bracing himself.

Ingrid, observing the interaction, nodded understandingly. Ashe noticed and looked to her for an answer. 

She shook her head. 

No need to explain lost causes.

* * *

**_ 4:03 p.m. on the 12th day of the Horsebow Moon, 1180 _ **

Dimitri lay on his back. He groaned at his predicament then groaned again when the pain came in. 

Marianne had both her palms floating over his stomach. White magic filled the space between her hands and the hoof-shaped print on the prince’s abdomen. 

“I think he was just excited…”

 _He tried to kill me,_ Dimitri wanted to say, but his injury prevented him from speaking.

He tried to lay peacefully on his back in hopes of having the event pass quickly into memory, but as the face of Dorte came into full view, the creature looking down at him, mockingly, Dimitri conceded that peace was not for men like him.

* * *

**_ 4:16 p.m. on the 13th day of the Horsebow Moon, 1180 _ **

The breeze felt refreshing on his face in the open field under the sun’s rays. In the distance, the figures of his professor and Marianne moved, the latter repeating the movements of the former. They were on ground, their riding lessons finished, and the professor had begun the process of polishing Marianne’s swordplay. It wasn’t something she signed up for, Dimitri was sure, but she accepted the help in that timidly brave way he was seeing more from her. 

“She shows some promise,” the professor commented to him about her swordsmanship, despite her attempts to undervalue herself. 

Her practice had been progressing smoothly if his own opinion had any merit. Maybe it was her love for animals, but she had a natural aptitude for horseback riding, though she’d never accept it so. Whether it be a successful joust, an accurate slice atop a speeding charge, or impressive maneuvering through obstacles, the girl was quick to diminish whatever accomplishments she achieved. He was disappointed in himself and his lack of words that could convince her otherwise, but he knew it was in her nature. 

He hoped one day she would be able to revel in her own merits. 

Dimitri watched them from afar, the prince being ordered to take a break. He had no gripes, but because they had finished their riding activities, he was tasked to handle the mounts. 

He side-eyed a specific horse currently grazing on the free field of grass. 

He sighed knowing his own stubborn nature was the reason he was going to attempt to reason with the animal again. 

“Dorte.”

The equine munched on its meal. 

“Enjoying yourself?”

… 

“I’m not a fan of grass myself, though I’m not opposed to trying.”

… 

The prince sighed heavily.

_What has become of me?_

Defeated, he sat cross legged to watch his challenger soak in their victory. Dorte readjusted himself to keep the prince in his line of sight but made no attempts to leave his meal.

“As hostile as you are towards me, I can’t harbor any ill will.” Dimitri wondered if this self-imposed competition had finally broken him to be speaking like this, but he had given up logic long ago. “Marianne speaks to you like this, doesn’t she? I hope I’m able to be half the conversational partner she is.” 

The only response he received was an offhanded snort and the sound of grinding teeth. 

“You are fortunate to have such a caring guardian. You were her first friend at the Academy from what I’ve learned.” 

Dorte flared his nostrils, though whether it was a response to him, or some programmed instinct remained up in the air.

“Care to keep a secret?” the prince asked jokingly, fully immersing himself in the absurdity of his stream of consciousness to an uncaring animal. “Our rides to and from the training fields have been extremely relieving for me. I fully confess in saying that I will miss it when these lessons run their course.”

He was referring to their short rides from the monastery to the fields, of course. Those few minutes where the only company Dimitri shared was with Marianne and their riding companions was something he became fond of rather quickly. 

“It’s only been a week, but I’ve discovered more than I imagined.” His eyes focused on his classmate demonstrating her sword skills in the distance. He had said their daily traveling was relieving, but her presence is what completes the painting of it.

Being alone with Marianne in those moments was its own adventure in unearthing what really made the girl who she was. Every day he learned something new about her. How the outside winds that breezed through them on their trail reminded her of brisk days in the Alliance countryside, how she wished to rest under the shadows of the canopy of leaves above them, how her prayers came to her much easier when she felt she could fill her lungs with fresh air devoid of nagging expectations, all of this he learned in just a week. Bits and pieces of herself that she shared in that guarded way that feared retaliation for just being who she was, he had taken it in all the same. And when her hesitance became shorter, her lips freer, and her confidence grew around him, he felt gratification borne from a feeling he couldn’t quite place. 

When they would arrive for her training, or when he would catch sight of her within the Academy’s walls, her demeanor was what one expected of her. But in the times only he was present for, he saw a different Marianne, but Marianne all the same.

She could be happy, and he, too, could feel the same.

“She’s more content around you,” he finally said, dragging himself from his thoughts. “What secrets does she share with you, I wonder? How fortunate we are to be able to see such a thing.” 

What made sharing in her contentment such a fortunate thing? Perhaps it was the satisfaction of learning information few would ever hear or being witness to rare sights that are her gentler expressions. 

For him, he knew why.

“When you’re with her, the resentment for herself disappears,” he spoke aloud to Dorte but aimed at nothing in particular. “They’re fleeting moments, but their existence is real. Maybe one day those moments can become the entirety of her days.”

_Maybe one day it can be the same for me…_

Dimitri didn’t notice Dorte entering his personal space until the horse blew heated air into the prince’s face. He sat back, stunned, but sensed no malice in the animal. The dark eyes no longer bore deep into him. 

They looked startlingly…apologetic. 

Dimitri laughed and felt relief wash over him when he had finally rested his hand on the horse’s mane, and he rubbed along it soothingly. 

“Do not worry, my friend. I accept your companionship.” He pulled an apple from his feeding bag, and Dorte gratefully accepted it from him. Dimitri laughed again.

“Oh! He let you feed him!”

He quickly stood up and turned to see Marianne watching them, delighted. 

Dimitri stepped back to let Marianne have her time with her equine friend. The professor stood back where Dimitri could speak to him in relative privacy.

“Hello, professor.”

“Hello.” The professor peered over the prince’s shoulder to Marianne and Dorte. “Were you…having fun with him there?”

He could feel his face blooming in embarrassment. “It’s complicated. How much did you see?”

“We just returned.”

“Ah. I see…err, how much did you hear?”

His teacher looked at him, not understanding. “Hear? Hear what?”

Right. He spent the better part of sometime speaking to an animal that couldn’t talk.

“Um. Nothing. It’s fine, professor.”

He praised the Goddess for his professor’s pragmatic nature as the man didn’t question him further believing it to be nonsensical. 

“She did fine,” the man suddenly remarked over Marianne’s swordsmanship. “Unrefined in many ways, but that’s expected.” 

“Praise from you is certainly something to be proud of either way.”

“You value my opinion too much,” the stony-faced man responded offhandedly. His fingers wrapped around his chin, a surefire sign that the professor was currently in thought.

“What is it, professor?”

The instructor tapped his fingers curiously several times before speaking his mind. “As you know, the supplemental lessons are finished after this week.”

 _I know,_ he thought sadly before catching himself. The prince nodded.

“If she wants to learn more, she’ll have to turn to more “committal” ways of doing so. Still…”

“Professor?”

“She’s adamant about learning the sword. For her protection and others, she said. I’d gladly lend a hand, but my hands are getting increasingly tied as the year progresses.” The man paused before speaking again, the timbre of his voice lowering. “And I have…important matters to research for the rest of this month.”

Dimitri nodded again, solemnly. It was Flayn. 

“I don’t know when, but I’d like you to tutor her. Give her a solid foundation to build.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Me? Are you sure?”

“Of course. Is there a problem?”

“Swords aren’t exactly my forte,” he said meekly. “Wouldn’t Felix be a better choice?”

“Do you honestly want her stuck in a room with Felix as her instructor?”

He winced. Bad idea.

“You said it yourself, Dimitri. You have the most rapport with her. She’ll be more receptive.”

The young boy wanted to protest, but he wondered why he had a strong urge to do so. He’s gladly given pointers to his classmates on numerous occasions. This shouldn’t be too different. It would just be Marianne and himself. 

_Just_ Marianne and himself.

His brow furrowed when the thought of it made him feel lighter. He did not like this foreign sensation. 

“Will you do it?”

His professor demanded an answer.

Dimitri looked back towards the subject in question. The girl was currently doting on Dorte, whispering verbal treats into his ears.

That seldom seen cheerfulness was delightful to look at. 

He did not feel like letting it go just yet.

“I will, professor. Happily.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bleh


	10. Wyvern Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strategizing. Hoping.

**_ 4:05 p.m. on the 5th day of the Wyvern Moon, 1180 _ **

Dimitri, along with several others, watched nearby as the professor posed before a professional painter with his numerous caught fish with a particularly enormous one held in his arms. He was joined by the other fishers that participated in the fishing competition holding up their own catches, along with Flayn who stood giddily beside him. She was very happy for someone that had been rescued from a kidnapping a mere five days ago, but maybe that was the point of the entire event, Dimitri noted.

“I guess you could say the fishing tournament was a success,” Sylvain said, his remark pointedly aimed at the green-haired girl. “Even the professor looks pumped up!”

“He does?” Leonie, scrutinizing the professor’s ever blank expression, seemed unsure. 

“Oh, definitely!” Annette replied. “Our class has studied him a lot, so we can tell. The professor’s eyebrows are raised a few centimeters than normal, which means he’s pretty stoked. Look!” 

Dimitri felt the heads of several of his classmates lean in to further inspect his teacher’s expression. 

“Ah, I have seen that expression before,” Lorenz proclaimed. “It matches perfectly when I regaled the professor of how House Gloucester’s ornate cutlery came to be. I feared that the man didn’t appreciate the story, but now I see that even he is not immune to our great feats.”

Mercedes gave a thoughtful hum. “Are you sure? That expression is also similar to the other one he does. It’s easy to get them confused.”

“When does he use the other one?” 

“He usually gives that look when he’s tired of our bullshit,” Sylvain answered. Dimitri nudged the boy for his crude language. 

Lorenz, looking more dejected, let out a disappointed sigh. 

“I’m just surprised they’re able to manage standing so long next to those fish,” Dorothea commented. “How they can stomach that smell is beyond me.”

“I fear the smell is the least of our problems.” Dedue wore a worried look on his that had the opera singer questioning.

“What do you mean?”

“Those fish are most definitely intended to be brought to the kitchen and cooked,” the Duscur boy explained. “Wheeling such a large amount will be difficult. And I am not sure if the cooks will be able to keep up…”

The tall student’s observations had brought attention to the ridiculous number of seafaring creatures piled atop each other, filling up several baskets and a wheelbarrow. 

Dorothea, taking in the sight, patted Dedue on the back. “How terrible…” She began to walk, leaving the group. “Sounds like a job for stronger, much more odor tolerant men such as you all.” Before she could make her graceful exit, a scowling noble blocked her path. “Oh. Hello there, Felix. Be a dear and step aside, please? I have…things to attend to.”

The swordsman rolled his eyes, his sight settling on the group before him. “As if the fishing tournament wasn’t ridiculous enough, you all here are just standing around gawking.”

Dimitri could feel the students of the other houses freeze the air around them. He shook his head.

“Crass words, but coming from you, that’s expected,” Lorenz replied. “And if you are to berate us, what were you up to? Surely it mustn’t be important if you deign us with your presence now.”

“I was training,” Felix replied dryly. “Only so much you can do with wooden dummies. I came to see where all the “hard workers” were. If this is what they’re up to, then this month’s battle will be as boring as I expect.”

Dimitri grimaced along with his housemates. Now the ire was directed at all of them. 

Lorenz laughed, and his posture straightened. “How utterly simple you are to think you stand a chance against us.” 

“Yeah, big talk for someone who seems to be underestimating their opponents,” Leonie piped in. “Look down on us for a second, and that’s when it hits you.”

“You can’t hit me if you don’t practice throwing a punch in the first place.”

“Oh my, is it always training with you?” Dorothea whimsically twirled her locks, feigning disinterest. “You know, girls don’t like it when men have such one-dimensional interests. I hope the Blue Lions aren’t as single-minded as you. It’s hard to be engaged when your opponent is dull as rocks.”

Felix scowled, and the rest of his classmates didn’t take kindly to the banter. Dimitri jumped between his curt friend before he got them all ensnared in an inter house brawl. 

“Let’s save this for the end of the month, why don’t we? Plenty of opportunity to settle scores then.”

Felix backed off, but not without shooting him a seething glare. The others, for the most part, placated. 

“Fine, fine,” the Black Eagles’ songstress said. She turned to leave, shooting them a mischievous wink. “Try not to be complacent until then.”

Her departure seemed to signal their dispersal. Leonie and Dimitri’s housemates took the opportunity to visit the competitors of the fishing competition, their celebratory portrait finally ready for its finishing touches. Felix made his move to fill up the prince’s line of vision. 

“Looking upon such sights doesn’t suit you, boar.” The raven-haired boy made a point to gesture towards the cheerful air of the sight behind him. “Train with me later so as to help remind you what you are.”

Having resigned to take the scathing words, Dimitri replied, ignoring the insults. “I’m afraid I can’t, Felix.”

“And why is that? Don’t tell me you have other obligations to attend to.”

“Unfortunately for you, that is the case. The professor has assigned me to help tutor a fellow student since his schedule is filled up. I’ll be sure to turn to you later, if that would help.”

Felix’s eyes narrowed, critically putting the prince under his judgement. “‘Fellow student?’ _Her_ again? Aiding the enemy so close to the Battle of the Eagle and Lion is a surefire way to ensure defeat.”

“She is _not_ an _enemy_ , Felix,” Dimitri growled, His sudden shift jarred him, and Felix as well, if the boy taking a step back meant anything. Dimitri took a moment to pause to gather himself. “It’s only for a day. I’m just teaching her the basics, a foundation for her to practice for herself. The professor will do the rest.”

He didn’t know why he had suddenly lashed out, and now that he had, he felt less prepared, less on guard. Letting the mask slip even for a moment had him nervous of how things would proceed. 

Mercifully, Felix didn’t berate or challenge him. Much to Dimitri’s surprise, his friend’s expression softened, the trademark condescending look appearing less dry.

“Whatever. Just don’t do anything stupid. Especially with her.”

Felix left him, the blunt noble stalking off to wherever. Left reeling from their talk, Dimitri could only watch. He wondered, as he watched Felix sardonically converse with Ingrid and Sylvain, if he just received some sort of advice. At least, advice given in the only way Felix could give it.

“Excuse me. Your Highness?”

Purple hair and a decorative rose took the prince’s attention?

“Lorenz?” Dimitri had thought the refined young man went along with the others. “ Is there something I can do to help you?” 

“No need, Your Highness. I just couldn’t help but overhear you talking with your…acquaintance.”

Dimitri sighed internally, exasperated. “Felix has a sharp tongue, but I can assure you that he meant-”

“I’m not here to speak of him,” Lorenz interjected, raising a hand to stop him. “It’s about your topic of conversation. Am I correct in assuming that you’re the one instructing Marianne today?” 

Despite what just occurred with Felix, Dimitri felt his defenses flare up again. “I am. Is that a problem?” 

“Oh, not at all! In fact, I’m delighted to hear it. The professor did assign you to help her, yes? The professor did always have an eye for talent. It’s not shocking to see him so invested in our house’s prospects.”

“He does? Uh, I mean, yes. He, err, does.” This wasn’t the direction he expected this conversation to travel but gloating and pride should’ve been expected from the Gloucester heir.

“I must say,” Lorenz continued, “I didn’t think Marianne cared to take the opportunity of making connections with allies of other nations, but I was wrong. She certainly has the ability to hoist her house into the upper echelons if she continues. It’ll help her confidence, more importantly.”

“Um. Yes. That it will.” Dimitri never got the impression that Marianne acted the way she did for her family’s name, but if Lorenz saw it that way, he wouldn’t tell him otherwise.

“To think she’d open such powerful avenues of communication with the crown prince, no less. She continues to impress.”

Dimitri felt a corner of his lip drift upwards. “She has, hasn’t she?” 

Taking away the formalities of the statement, Lorenz wasn’t wrong in thinking the way he did. Marianne has made considerable headway in the months he’s known her. He felt a certain bit of honor in thinking that he had a hand and helping her so.

“Hm…that look…” 

The thoughtful hum of the aristocratic boy caused Dimitri to blink out of his mild stupor. Lorenz seemed to be examining the prince’s face. 

Closely. 

“Lorenz?”

The other man tilted his head. “I see…” A pleased grin overtook the boy, a symbol of the epiphany he had uncovered. “How interesting. It seems I’m not the only one here with eyes after all!”

…

“Ex-excuse me?” 

“You, my friend, also share an eye for beauty,” Lorenz clarified as if the answer was obvious. “It would make sense that royalty such as yourself would be able to discern value in others. How wonderful it is to know that you and I share such clear vision.”

Dimitri looked behind his shoulder. No one was behind him meaning that he was definitely the subject of whatever Lorenz was speaking of, unfortunately. 

“I’m not sure I understand?”

Lorenz, oblivious to the prince’s bewilderment, simply placed a hand on his shoulder. “Fret not, friend. Surely, we must reconvene and discuss if we have other similar traits. Perhaps over tea? Just let me know.”

Dimitri was growing tired of being left alone on the receiving end of talks that ended with him in a state of confusion, but as Lorenz walked away, he questioned whether he really wanted an answer to this conundrum. 

With the Golden Deer student disappearing, and Dimitri’s opportunity slipping away, he conceded. Claude always did say Lorenz could be an eccentric one. He had somewhere to be soon, anyway. 

Still, “ _an eye for beauty?”_ Dimitri was not one to speak ill of people’s appearances, but Lorenz wasn’t exactly the paragon of model attractiveness, in his opinion. His hair didn’t exude handsomeness if he were to be honest. 

Unless he was speaking of someone else, of course.

… 

The Training Grounds were unbearably quiet when it was empty. Her pessimism cursed her luck considering this area was rarely devoid of others, but it seemed she had stumbled into one of those times. Sitting on the steps leading into the dueling area, Marianne tried not to bounce under the pressure of the oppressive walls. She leaned against her wooden training sword with its tip planted firmly into the surface. 

She had vehemently requested that the professor train her in handling a sword, his skills paramount for teaching. The week of cavalry training had been the most invested she ever was in combat related learning besides her standard curriculum of magic. She believed her abilities to be shoddy at best, but the feeling of galloping on her trusted partner with the intent of saving lives had made her feel like something more. Something grander.

Emboldened by the feeling had gotten her into her current situation, though, and she felt anything but bold. 

Her fist clenched around the hilt of her sword nervously. How could she possibly learn this? This wasn’t in her nature. Mending wounds was in her nature. Flinging spells and riding on horseback were in her nature. Wielding steel up close and with expertise was not. The one time she had swung a sword in combat kept her up at night, a single moment she could pinpoint as evidence for her removal from this earth, and now she wished to become proficient?

She was losing sight of what she was.

She shook her head and stood up. Marianne took several breaths to alleviate the nauseating pressure building up within her. She shut her eyes and scoured her brain for any anchoring thoughts to keep her from skidding off completely. Things to keep her going, even if they were scarce. 

The Golden Deer house.

The birds in the courtyard.

Dorte.

There were reasons, unlike before. Meager, vague reasons for living they may be, but reasons all the same.

Her mind searched for the brighter things in a quickly darkening space. 

_“...-ask that you take care of yourself…”_

She winced in surprise.

_“-one day...show you the sights I’ve grown to adore.”_

The wide doors to the entrance of the grounds creaked open, the sound startling her. Despite that, when she put a hand to her heart, she found it…calmer. 

Blue and black and the sight of blonde strands shut the door. Every creak and groan that echoed off made the young man strain his brow in embarrassment. 

A final bang finished the shutting of the door, and its new entrant turned to her.

“Uh…sorry. For scaring you. I tend to do that a lot, don’t I?” The crown prince looked around, making note of the emptiness of the area. He made his way to her, the only other individual in the room, and her relaxed heart began to accelerate again. 

She panicked, preparing for the onset of another mental barrage only to find nothing dreadful looming, despite her body feeling differently. A fast heartbeat, an uncomfortable sensation throughout her body, and jumbled thoughts, but no sense of doom followed. 

It wasn’t a new experience for her. These feelings began sometime last month, during her week of cavalry training. They’d return sporadically ever since with no rhyme or reason she could discern. She decided against bringing it up with those at the infirmary or any of her colleagues. It was probably a side effect from diving into such physical training, she told herself. 

So, mildly uncomfortable and with a training blade in hand, she readied herself for the day she had wrought.

Marianne stood at attention under her instructor. She tried to, at least. Eye contact was still difficult. Dimitri gave her a look then chuckled amusedly. “Relax, please. There’s no need to treat me with such respect.” It was against protocol, but since he insisted, she let her shoulders sag and let her stiff posture go slightly limper. 

The prince smiled and nodded at her. “Good. Being looser will help also.”

Her stomach bubbled uneasily again. She ignored it.

“I’m curious as to why you’re interested in learning the sword,” Dimitri asked her. “Not many students with a skillset such as yours are inclined to practice such a thing.” It was an honest question and probably the nicest way someone has asked her why she isn’t just letting the strong men and women protect her. 

“I…want to defend myself. Magic is too unwieldy up close,” she told him nearly confidently. But with her real reasons ready to be said, she looked away knowing she’d be met with disagreement. “...I don’t want others to hurt themselves because of me or suffer from my inadequacies. How long will I let such a thing happen? I mustn’t be a burden any longer.”

“Surely you know that isn’t the truth,” her classmate told her. “Saving a valued ally from harm is hardly a burden. Especially one such as yourself.” Resistance was always expected when she spoke like this, but sincerity never was even if the prince was one of her biggest defenders. 

“I just want to help,” she finished lamely. “That’s all…”

Marianne wasn’t in the mood for a debate on her own self-worth, not when she already had her answer locked in. Dimitri didn’t say anything, instead opting to look at her pensively. Not knowing what he was thinking of her was nearly in the same level of discomfort as her strangely increasing heartbeat.

After a beat, the Blue Lion leader moved past her. She watched him lift a training dummy over his shoulder and placed it before her unceremoniously. He withdrew his own practice sword.

“I’m not here to stop you,” he said to her. “I’m here to help you. If your heart is set on this, then so is mine.” 

An arm behind his back and holding his sword before him like a cane, Faerghus’ prince looked every bit like a military officer, almost comically so. The small, benevolent smile, however, that almost seemed to shine on his face looked as natural as one would expect from dashing royalty. 

She believed the smile was meant to support her. 

Her body buzzed, the nagging feeling having only intensified, but she paid it no mind. 

Dimitri gave a pleased hum when she returned his fervor with her own determined stare. 

“Let’s begin…”

… 

She unleashed on the training dummy, swinging her sword whichever way. 

“Show me what you know so I have a clear understanding of your skill,” Dimitri told her, and so she complied. She cut and sliced like how the meager beginner manuals at the beginning of the year taught her. She attempted the precise thrusts the professor had shown her. When Dimitri continued to watch, she resorted to swinging how she imagined a sword should be swung, attempting to imitate the more practiced sword fighters she’s watched like Claude or Felix.

It was sloppy.

She was already short of breath when he signaled her to stop. The way he slowly nodded to himself as if he realized what if was getting himself into did not inspire confidence.

“I’m-I’m sorry. I should have mentioned that I’m no good at this.” She spoke between labored breaths, strands of loose hair sticking to her face. 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” the young man tried to reassure her. “We all start somewhere.” His words prompted a pathetic mewl from her. “Uh- I mean that truly. You’ve only just started, and there’s plenty to work with here.”

“There is?”

“Certainly.” 

He quickly moved beside her, brandishing his dulled practice blade. “I see that the first set of maneuvers you went through came from famous beginner sword texts. Your movements were practiced, but just a _bit_ too rigid.” He mimicked the same motions, his movements notably more professional and free flowing. “Repeat after me.”

The next few minutes passed by as such, Dimitri showing her a routine movement that she inevitably copied with much less finesse. 

Fortunately, the little praises and affirmation he murmured to her after every strike had her focused on improving the next swing. 

It had her _extremely_ focused. 

Marianne went through the ordered drill Dimitri asked of her. Several cuts, as smooth and smooth and precise as she could manage. Only thirty minutes in of their scheduled hour and her form and sense with a sword had improved dramatically, though nothing on par for serviceable combat. 

The last strikes moved through her. Her body fell into a comfortable rhythm. Surprisingly, she was beginning to enjoy the rhythmic nature of it all. Dimitri watched her making her even more set on making sure she would get this right. 

Her sword arm started to ache, a normal consequence of continued labor, she supposed. But when she followed one strike with the next, the vibration felt enhanced, shaking through her entire being. Almost unconsciously, she struck again with much more force than needed and the realization of what was happening dawned on her. 

This was not fatigue setting in or the pleasantly unpleasant feelings she had been living through. She was clenching her teeth and gripping the handle of her weapon painfully so. 

Her blood was starting to burn.

Marianne ceased her movements through force of will and turned away from the prince. She bent over, leaning against her sword and squeezing her eyes shut. 

She took in a large, shivering breath and attempted to let the bloodthirsty curses of her Crest pass. It hurt, but it had to be done. 

A pained, guttural sound eked out of her from her efforts. 

She wouldn’t allow this.

Not now. Not again. 

“-ianne? Marianne?”

Her eyes slowly opened, her vision clouded by colored spots of light before they disappeared. She was still slightly doubled over. 

Dimitri hovered over her, alarm on his face. 

“I’m fine,” she whispered automatically. 

“I find that hard to believe. What happened? Are you hurt?”

He looked over her anxiously, his hands advancing and retreating.

“I’m fine,” she repeated. “Tired.”

The wave of held back nausea had washed over, but now she was spent. Dimitri gently placed a hand on her shoulder and ushered her away. 

“Come. You need to sit.”

“Not done.”

Her head was starting to clear, a good sign for her and her vocabulary that was escaping her. It did not deter the young man from continuing to move her.

“We still have time.”

He walked her to the steps she was originally waiting upon, very carefully guiding her as she sat herself down. He placed himself next to her still diligently and awkwardly inspecting her for injuries. It would have felt improper if Marianne’s attack hadn’t forced him to do so.

She regained her energy after a few minutes of waiting, Dimitri electing not to speak and let her recover. He offered her a flask of water which she downed thankfully. 

“Better?” 

She nodded, handing him back the flask. He set it aside while not taking his eyes off her. 

“Please. It’s okay now. I’m alright.” It was beginning to get embarrassing having him stare at her so intensely, no matter the reason. 

“If you say so. Might I ask what happened? Is something bothering you?”

 _It’s always bothering me,_ she thought to herself. He had already seen her Crest once, and she would rather keep it that way.

She bit her lip when trying to come up with a suitable excuse. 

_Oh dear. What would Hilda do?_

“Cramp,” she blurted out. “I had a…cramp.”

“A cramp?” He raised his brow in suspicion. “That was…a cramp?”

“Um. Yes. Cramp.” 

Her face started to heat up, her boldface lying mocking her.

“I…will admit, I’ve not seen any cramps that looked like that.”

She tried not to visibly falter. “It was a…special cramp?”

“Special cramp…,” he looked to be thinking to himself when his eyes suddenly widened. 

“In the arm!” she quickly clarified. “My arm. It cramped up.”

“Oh. Okay. I see.”

He didn’t speak further, the action leaving Marianne floundering internally. The boy did not look convinced.

She grimaced.

It was one thing to lie. It was another to lie so badly. But did he have to let her wallow in her sin before he exposed her?

The torture continued for several more arduous seconds, the bloodlust of her Crest being replaced entirely by flittering self-consciousness.

He handed her the flask again. 

She looked at him, confused, before he talked. 

“Dehydration may cause cramps,” he said. “That’s what Dedue has always told me.” 

Marianne slowly took it from him. “Thank you…?”

“Mm.”

They stared at each other silently, Dimitri expectantly waiting for her to drink to ease her muscle spasms and Marianne unable to decipher whether the prince was humoring her or believing her fabrication. 

She took a sip anyway. 

With no liquid left to consume, she placed the drink away. Revitalized, she began to stand before a hand on her arm held her down. 

“Hold, Marianne,” Dimitri said. “Are you sure you can continue? You can continue this another time.”

She shook her head. “We still have half an hour left. I’m ready.”

“I think you’ve made fine progress. Maybe it’d be best to err on the side of caution? The professor would not mind.”

The crown prince had a point, but Marianne would be ashamed to let her Crest be the reason she held herself back once again. 

If she spoke with honesty, perhaps he could be swayed. 

“I want to practice,” she reaffirmed. “It would help immensely. I don’t want to waste this time.”

Dimitri spoke against her again, his goal now evidently being her retirement for the day. “Taking proper care is not wasting time. There’s no shame in resting after your…cramp. The professor will still have time to teach you another day. ”

“I want to practice with you.”

…

Perhaps she spoke _too_ honestly.

Her request had her immediately flustered and staring at the floor. 

It had come out of her without a second thought, and she wondered why it had fazed her so. It was the truth, was it not? Besides the professor of the Blue Lions, their leader was the only other person she was composed around. 

Considering how the tutoring has turned out, she may have to reevaluate that last fact. 

“You wish to practice with… me?” She couldn’t see, but the hesitation and confusion in his voice made it known that she was not the only one rattled. “You know I’m not as well-versed as the professor.”

“I know…-I mean, that’s fine.” She struggled to find any words to help articulate a reasonable explanation. “It’s just…you’ve already spent your time assisting me. I’m still…amenable to your methods of instruction.”

Luckily for her conscience, it wasn’t a lie, but calling it the truth felt disingenuous. 

There were certainly more reasons for why she said what she wanted, whatever they may be. She just was not courageous enough to uncover what those reasons are.

Dimitri sighed, unsure of himself. His eyes drifted over to her and the training target. Marianne knew her selfishness was putting him into a tough decision. 

The idea that the prince didn’t want to spend any more time with her dawned on her as well. She deflated, the notion being perfectly understandable but still hurting her heart, nonetheless. 

“We don’t have to continue if you so please…”

“It’s only half an hour left, correct?”

The more jovial tone of his voice had her looking up at him. There was a more sheepish smile on his face, but a smile all the same. 

“Just half an hour,” she said. 

Still looking bashful, he sighed yet picked up the training swords they had discarded. He held one to her.

“Only until then,” he murmured to her sounding like a parent giving in to the demands of their children. “Please don’t strain yourself.”

Her own fears of the prince wanting to escape her presence disappeared quickly and was filled in by relief and happiness that they would get to continue, warmth making itself known in her chest. 

This was only for the sword practice, she thought as she reached for an outstretched weapon with an unknowingly fluttering heart.

* * *

**_6:04 p.m. on the 23rd day of the Wyvern Moon, 1180_**

The door to the Blue Lions’ classroom was locked shut. Its students were seated in a circle, several books, papers, and portable chalkboards strewn about. Sylvain leaned in and looked at every focused Lion before clearing his throat and standing.

“Alright. Everyone’s here. Let’s get this official _unofficial_ Blue Lions’ strategy meeting started!”

Annette let out a cheerful whoop with Mercedes giving a light applause. Ingrid snapped her fingers. Dedue clapped along stoically.

"Shouldn't Flayn be here too?" Ashe asked, the newest member of the Blue Lions being absent along with their professor.

"She's currently being looked after by Seteth right now, most likely trying to talk her out of the whole shebang," Sylvain said.

Felix rolled his eyes.

“Is this meeting really necessary?” the young Fraldarius boy asked. Dimitri took the moment to answer him. 

“Of course it is Felix. This is the battle we’ve spent the entire year working up to. As I told the professor, it’s imperative we fight our best to live up to the legacy of the King of Lions.”

“Consider myself unsurprised that you wish to fight for another dead man,” Felix muttered. 

Dimitri pretended not to hear. 

Ingrid stepped in. “I agree with His Highness, Felix. I know you want to win more than any of us, and a little strategy meeting would help improve our chances, wouldn’t you say?”

“I already have a strategy.”

Dimitri and everyone else quirked an eyebrow waiting for Felix to inform them.

He didn’t.

“Err…what is it?” Ashe asked. 

“I find the enemy, and I cut them down.”

The Blue Lions’ sisterly healer frowned. “I don’t think it works that way, Felix.”

“And why not?”

“We cannot kill our classmates,” Dedue said straight-faced. 

“And _why_ not?”

Dimitri kept himself from palming his forehead.

This meeting was starting off wonderfully. 

The prince attempted to steer his friends back onto topic. “Let’s…focus on the matter at hand. Does anyone have a preferred way to start?”

“Oh, oh!” Annette shot her hand up despite Dimitri sitting right in front of her. “Let’s go over each house! We can strategize ways to fight each one.”

Everyone nodded at her suggestion. 

“A good idea,” Dedue replied. “Might I suggest we begin with the Black Eagles?” 

Sylvain leaned back in his seat, hands behind his head. “Sounds like a plan. Why them to start? Got a personal grudge against one of them, my tall friend?”

“I thought it fitting considering the history of the battle. They’re also more…traditional in the way they fight.”

Dimitri could see the reasoning. The Empire and Kingdom have a storied history. The Black Eagles would also seem less wily than the Golden Deer by nature of their calculated house leader.

“That sounds fine to me,” Mercedes said. “They certainly have some capable fighters.”

Sylvain let out a scoff. “Heh. They don’t have anything on us. Besides, I’ve already got an ace up my sleeve.”

“Oh?” Ingrid crossed a leg and put on a face she usually wore when preparing to deal with her redheaded friend’s antics. “What would your ace be?”

“It’s simple. I’ve already got an advantage on nearly half of their units.”

Ashe looked innocently impressed. “Really? Which ones?”

Sylvain smirked proudly. “Dorothea, Petra, Bernadetta, and Edelgard.”

If Felix was listening, he certainly wasn’t now. Dimitri could see the rest ready to bombard their philanderer with incredulity. 

“Explain,” Dimitri ordered already regretting what was coming.

“Glad you asked, Your Highness. It’s quite ingenious if I might add. I’ve established great rapport with all four of them, as you all would know. If they see me on the battlefield, they’d be frozen in hesitation of not wanting to hurt a _valued_ acquaintance, if you catch my drift. Alas, as a knight of the Kingdom, I wouldn’t stop in striking them down, assuring our victory.”

There was some silence as everyone digested what they heard. 

“Would anyone like to contribute anything that might actually be helpful?” Felix drawled.

“Wha- I just did!”

Ingrid shook her head. “No. You didn’t. In fact, you might have negatively impacted us.”

“Tell me what’s wrong with what I just said,” Sylvain challenged them.

“I’m pretty sure Dorothea doesn’t care about you much,” Annette noted. 

“She fed me cake!”

“She threw it in your face,” Ingrid cleared up.

“Yeah, but she _enjoyed_ it.”

“Didn’t Petra punch you in the gut last month?” Ashe brought up.

“It was an accident,” Sylvain said, unconsciously clutching his stomach. “I was wishing her happy birthday. She thought I was attacking her. It happens.”

 _“It does?”_ Dimitri heard Annette whisper. 

“I have occasionally heard Bernadatta mumbling about throwing you into a fire,” Dedue added.

“Oh that’s- wait. She _what_?” Sylvain looked at Dedue, shocked. “Why haven’t you told me this?”

“I assumed you would be able to defend yourself.”

“That’s besides the- you know what? I have a feeling you all don’t believe in me.”

Ingrid sighed annoyingly. “What about Edelgard then? What have you done with her?”

“Ah, that’s easy,” Sylvain engaged with fervor. He prepared to speak before his enthusiasm faded. “I…huh. Actually, I haven’t done anything with her.”

“And why’s that?” Ingrid egged him on.

“Are you kidding me? She’s terrifying.”

Dimitri, having heard enough, spoke up. “So, what we’ve heard so far is that you have absolutely nothing at all with any of them?”

Sylvain meekly looked away. “No.”

Ingrid, looking pleased, leaned forward in her seat. “Excellent. Now, onto actual strategy. Dorothea is a mage but isn’t one for fast-paced, close quarters combat. Let me deal with her if given the chance.” With important information being spewed, everyone began to listen much more seriously. “Bernadetta’s archery will pose a threat for me, though.”

“Maybe we can use that to our advantage?” Ashe proposed. “She’ll be focused on targeting a flying opponent…”

“And Mercie and I can hit her with some magic while she’s distracted!” Annette finished. “Devious subterfuge, Ashe! I like it.”

“Um. I wouldn’t call that subterfuge…”

Felix surprisingly piped in. “Leave the Brigid princess to me.” 

“Are you sure, Felix?” Dimitri questioned.

“Don’t doubt me, boar.” Felix readjusted himself in his seat. “She’s quick and tricky and clever with a sword. I’m the only one that can keep up.”

He wasn’t wrong. And despite his confidence bordering on arrogance, Felix was dangerously skilled. They were confident he would be fine.

“This is all fine and good, but it would do no good to go along with all this if there’s someone to keep our opponents going,” Mercedes added.

“Linhardt is a narcoleptic,” Annette said. “We’ll be fine.”

“It would do us no good if we underestimated our opponents, Annette,” Dimitri was quick to say. 

Ashe interjected. “Linhardt’s actually pretty capable despite his tendencies. Mercedes is right in that we should be wary of him if we want to win in the long run.” The archer put a finger to his chin. “Though if we target Linhardt, Caspar would be sure to intervene…”

“I can combat Caspar, if you would all be so willing,” Dedue spoke. The others turned to him for an explanation. “He’s a very energetic fighter, but my constitution and armor will be able to withstand his assault. I also think he’d be eager for a rematch.”

“Rematch?” Dimitri said, eyeing his guardian.

“He challenged me to a fist fight out of the blue the other day. I obliged. With proper protection, of course.”

“That…wouldn’t have anything to do with you being taller than him, would it?” Ashe asked unsurely.

“I believe he mentioned something like that.”

Ashe sighed. 

“What about Hubert?” Annette suddenly asked. “He’s…creepy. And strong!”

“Oh, don’t worry about him, Annie.” Mercedes gave her best friend her gentle smile.

“Hm? How come?”

“Hubert looks scary and dark, but he’s not all that scary.” Mercedes voice went down to a more hushed volume. “You all just give me some time with him, and I can show him the light.”

No one was willing to go against her wishes. 

Sylvian, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since he was shot down earlier, propped himself up from his seat. “You know, everyone’s talking matchups, and if that’s the case, leave pretty boy Aegir to me.”

“And why should we do that?” Ingrid posed.

“Come on, have some faith in me. Think of me as a slacker all you want, guys, but only one person in this room is the certified best jouster of the Blue Lions, and he’s sitting in my seat.” 

“It’s not a bad idea,” Dimitri agreed. “Ferdinand is a very skilled rider, though. Will you be able to compete with that?”

“Your Highness, please” Sylvain kicked his feet up on another open seat. “Gautier’s riders are the finest in the land. Yours truly is no different.”

The flirtatious friend shot him a haughty wink.

If he’s confident, Dimitri decided.

Their discussion bore useful fruit with one final note tackle. 

“Everyone has a plan for the various members of the Black Eagles,” Dimitri stated. “However, when the time comes, I highly implore you all to let Edelgard and I fight to ourselves.”

“Oooh.” Sylvain jokingly expressed the drama. “A climactic clash between the future Empress and King. I didn’t know you were one for theatre, Your Highness.”

“It’s not for show, Sylvain,” Dimitri claimed. “She’s a menacingly strong foe with a penchant for the absolute. The notion of dueling with another country’s future ruler would help assert her need for dominance. Her targets would no doubt be the professor and me.”

Felix gave an annoyed huff. “Are you saying we wouldn’t be able to challenge her.”

“Not at all, Felix. I’m saying that she’ll be focused on completing her goal and won’t let others hinder her. It’s better to tackle that head on than with trickery.”

Sylvain let out a low whistle. “That’s an awfully astute analysis of the princess, Your Highness. How’d you get in her head so well, huh?”

Memories of a brown-haired girl flashed in the prince’s mind’s eye.

“I’ve had dealings with a similar person, once” was all Dimitri said. 

They started to quiet down now that most of the Black Eagles were spoken about. 

Ashe inquired about Dimitri’s plan. “I’m not disagreeing with you, Your Highness, but…do you really think expecting an honorable one-on-one with Edelgard is viable?”

The prince frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you said you wanted to approach this without trickery, but there’s another major player who will do just that.”

The realization made Dimitri sigh.

“Claude. Of course.”

“Not just Claude,” Ingrid chimed. “All of the Golden Deer are unconventionally talented.”

“I elect to not eat or drink anything we don’t make ourselves before the battle just in case,” Sylvain proposed. “Does everyone agree?”

A round of ayes rang through the room. No one was truly sure if Claude ever went through on his threats to spike his opponents’ meals, but they didn’t want to be the first victims if so. 

Ingrid had her eyes aimed upwards, deep in thought. “Claude is very sly about how he operates. I’m not sure how to approach him or the Golden Deer in battle.”

“Don’t overthink it,” Felix said simply. “They’re just like everyone else. A few tricks and traps doesn’t counteract a cohesive unit.”

There was a beat of stillness. 

Annette spoke what was on everyone’s minds. “Woah. You gave some actual advice and sounded like a normal person!”

“‘The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Felix is right,” Dimitri popped in. “Don’t let reputation corner you before a battle’s even begun.”

Most everyone nodded in agreement.

 _Most_ everyone.

“I’m gonna have to disagree.” Sylvain leaned forward. “There’s no way I’m laying a hand on Hilda. I heard her brother is one tough bastard and overprotective. No girl is worth messing up this pretty face.” 

Dedue tilted his head. “I do not think Lord Holst will hurt anyone because of a mock battle.”

“I’m not risking it.”

“How about we just worry about what’s in front of us, hm?” Mercedes corralled them in.

“I hear Ignatz has a keen eye with his bow,” Ashe thought aloud. “I wonder if I can keep up…”

Sylvain laughed softly. “How are you going to worry about Ignatz when his giant best friend is right there?” 

“Oh. Right.” Ashe paled a little bit, turning to Annette. “You can get him if he comes after me, right Annette?”

“Sure thing! Only if he hasn’t eaten you yet.”

The ex-thief whimpered. 

“Before we continue,” Felix interjected, “let it be known that the Blade Breaker’s apprentice is mine to deal with.”

“Are you _still_ hung up about that one time she dropped you in a pit?” Ingrid asked.

“She did not _drop_ me. I fell. Of my own volition.”

“Mhm.” The Pegasus knight sounded unimpressed. 

“Actually, I got my own score to settle with the purple bowl head from the Alliance.” Sylvain proclaimed it with strange intensity. 

Mercedes tapped a finger to her chin. “You mean Lorenz?” 

“Who else sounds like what I just said?” Sylvain confirmed. “I have to get him back for doubting my talents. Besides, if I’m getting one prissy noble, I might as well get the other too.”

Dimitri was beginning to see the trend this discussion was heading. “I’m starting to believe this is less a strategy meeting and more settling our own personal vendettas.” 

“Oh! Can I fight Lysithea then?” Annette asked eagerly. “I gotta show her that my magical prowess is the best in the Academy!”

“Annette, that’s not the point I was trying to make.”

The sorcerer, however, paid him no mind.

Along with everyone else. 

Dimitri rested his face in his hands.

After several minutes of discussing formations and possible opponents, with Dimitri using the time to partake in his own self-contained break, a lull was broken by Annette.

“Oh. I just remembered.”

“What is it Annie?”

A little pout graced the magic user’s face. “I was just thinking of ways of how our healers can efficiently keep us moving, but I forgot that Marianne technically isn’t on our side for this one.”

The mention of a certain Golden Deer immediately snapped Dimitri back into the discussion. He listened closely. 

“I forgot about that too,” Ashe said. “She’s been with us for a lot of our big field missions. I honestly forgot she wasn’t a part of this house.”

The sentiment was shared throughout the room. Even Dimitri thought the same.

“Hey, you never know. The professor likes her a lot, and she trusts him. I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t recruited anyone. He only needs to ask.”

“Everyone trusts the professor, Sylvain,” Ingrid commented. 

“Yeah, but there’s more than just us and the professor that can keep Marianne around.”

Dimitri let the words bounce around in his head trying to parse through what Sylvain meant. The room had gone silent, however, prompting him to look up.

Everyone was staring at him.

“Um.” He backed up in his seat. “What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem, Your Highness,” Annette was quick to say. “It’s just pretty obvious that you and Marianne get along well together.”

He was starting to feel hot for some reason. “I’m afraid I don’t follow?”

“Oh, don’t be coy, Your Highness,” Sylvain said suggestively. “If it’s not the professor she’s hiding around, then it’s gotta be you.”

Ingrid huffed. “And it’s a good thing too. Sylvain probably would’ve run her out if she wasn’t eased in slowly like she was.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know Marianne and I have had wonderful conversations since then. Not just me either.”

“It’s true,” Mercedes kindly added. “She’s very quiet, but we’ve spoken over sewing once or twice.” She looked at Dimitri mischievously. “She finds the story of your needlework very amusing, by the way.”

His face blazed a bright red. “Can we not talk about this?”

“Do you not like Marianne, Your Highness?” Ashe curiously asked. 

“What? That was not what I intended to mean.”

“I can attest to this,” Dedue said. “His Highness frequently speaks well of Marianne when we’re together. He bears no ill will towards her.”

Dimitri deeply inhaled and slowly bored his eyes straight into his supposed protector. The boy seemed oblivious.

There was a sound of an irritated groan before Felix interrupted. “Who cares about what the boar thinks?”

Rudely put, but at least it was an out, Dimitri thankfully saw. 

“Thank you, Felix. This is all rather-”

“For all intents and purposes, she’s an enemy come next battle. Everyone treats her like everybody else.”

A cold feeling started forming in Dimitri’s gut. 

Marianne? An enemy? Even in a mock battle, just the idea of it made him feel weak. 

Why did it make him feel that way?

“You’re not wrong, Felix,” Annette said regrettably, “but you sure can kill the mood.”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re going there to win, and that means beating the opposition. You better agree, boar. Don’t you?”

He had to stop himself from immediately disagreeing, something his body almost succeeded in saying. 

This was just a mock battle. Why was he so indecisive now? 

No one is truly going to get hurt. That is what’s important.

Marianne wouldn’t get hurt. 

He wouldn’t hurt her.

“Of course, Felix. Our goal is to win.”

His classmates nodded, satisfied. 

He let the images of what he could possibly do fade away so he could hope to share in that satisfaction. 

* * *

**_7:30 p.m. on the 24th day of the Wyvern Moon, 1180_**

With all things taken into account, this was progressing better than Marianne initially thought.

“Once again, all of you need simply to follow under my lead, and I shall take us to a guaranteed Alliance victory!”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.”

It could be worse.

Claude had gathered the Golden Deer for a secret “tactics” meeting in preparation for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. She couldn’t contribute much, but if she sat in and listened, she would be able to do enough.

It had gone smoothly with several decent countermeasures and plans put into place against the opposing houses, but the meeting had…devolved at some point. 

At the head of the deconstruction of this meeting were Claud and Lorenz, an unsurprising pair bickering over the best course of action towards victory.

“I’m not even suggesting anything crazy,” their house leader pleaded. “I’m just trying to make a point in that trying to secure a central position in the battlefield is just asking for us to get swarmed over. Let’s take it slow and move as the situation arises, yeah?”

Lorenz, however, did not agree. “You speak as if I want us to charge blindly and headfirst! If we can capture a vital area of the battlefield, it would allow us to take advantage of superior positioning and allow us to be on the aggressive rather than on our backfoot like _some_ people would suggest.”

Marianne watched the two continue their squabbling, the rest of the students observing on. 

“Should…should we stop them?” Ignatz asked.

Leonie shrugged her shoulders. “Nah. Better to let them go at it now than during the battle.”

“They both do have pretty decent points,” Raphael mused. “At least, I think they do. They both sounded pretty smart about this thing. I can’t tell what they’re saying.”

Their white-haired sorceress groaned irritated. “Can they just get on with it already? There’s much more to discuss.”

“Eh. They can keep going.” Hilda lazily picked at her nails. “The more they yammer on, the less I have to think.”

As a fellow soul who was only here because of obligation, Marianne couldn’t find it in her to disagree with her friend.

A resounding slap of a palm meeting a desktop silenced all the chatter. 

“Look, we can discuss this another time,” Claude finalized to Lorenz. “This would just be a waste if we kept going on like this.” Their scheming leader turned his attention to everyone else. “Sorry about that everyone. Let’s recap, why don’t we?”

Lorenz, thankfully, relented allowing them to continue. Everyone gathered in close with Claude pulling in a chair and sitting backwards in it. 

“Now, the trumpets sound, the battle starts, and the Black Eagles decide to dally over towards us. What do we do?” Claude asked.

“Form a defensive wall, front liners take the charge, ranged fighters in the back,” Leonie answered.

“Good. Say Ferdinand rides in attempting to break through?”

“I meet him partway and defeat him in an elegant yet brutal joust,” Lorenz said.

“Uh. Yeah. Good.” Claude rolled his eyes. “What happens if Petra tries and slips through the line?”

Ignatz sat up. “I’ll be keeping an eye out for her! If I spot her, I’ll alert you right away.”

“Bingo. Uh oh, Caspar and Dorothea are making their move, and Bernadetta is providing covering fire.”

“I distract Caspar,” Hilda replied.

“And then I punch him,” Raphael answered.

“I rush Dorothea when she sees Caspar getting knocked on his ass…” Leonie began.

“And then I blast away Bernadetta when she panics,” Lysithea finished.

“And what happens when their resident bedhead tries to keep them all afloat, and their brooding magician tries to turn the tide?”

There was a small pause, and Marianne realized this was her part. “Oh, I- I silence Linhardt and Hubert and others close in on them.”

Claude clapped his hands together. “Good! See? Perfect synergy! Excellent job.”

Lysithea, though, crossed her arms. “And what about Edelgard?”

The Riegan boy waved a hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry about her. I got a thing or two to rattle her. Just leave it to me.”

The girl shrugged. “If you say so.”

“Woo! All this talk is getting me pumped now!” Raphael put a fist to his palm. His face quickly soured into something worrying. “So, uh, what about the _other_ house involved in this fight?”

“Don’t worry. Protocols are still relatively the same,” Claude said. “Just a few tweaks here and there. What can I say? You got one bunch of chivalrous clowns down, you got them all.”

“Does that include the professor?” Lorenz asked knowingly. 

Claude froze in place before snapping his fingers. “Good point.”

“How’d you forget the professor?” Hilda pouted. “He’s the biggest problem there.”

“Oh, Hilda, I didn’t forget. I was merely…crafting new ideas to help combat Teach. Still working on it though.”

Lorenz snobbishly shook his head. “You mean to tell me the _great_ Claude von Riegan, the master planner himself, is stumped for once?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But honestly, anyone would. Teach is a mystery.” Suddenly, the roguish smile Claude has been known for sprang on his face. “Luckily, we’ve had months to gather information on our target. And now, it’s time for all to be revealed.”

“And how did you manage to accrue all this information?” Lorenz questioned skeptically. 

“Oh. I didn’t. But _we_ have someone here who did.”

In a rare moment of agreement, Lorenz nodded slowly in understanding. “Hm. I see. We do, don’t we?”

“Ohhh yeah!” Hilda, always ready to share in anything playful, joined in. “You’re right! How fortunate for us!”

Marianne watched the room turn in her direction.

What did she do to deserve this?

“...What do you want to know?” she asked with resignation. 

“Nothing much, Marianne,” Claude said softly. “Just some normal stuff. Like…fighting style, any weaknesses, what gets under his skin. You know. That stuff.”

“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell,” she told them truthfully. “The reputation he has is that way for a reason…” Disappointed looks traveled across her friends’ faces. “I’m sorry I can’t help at all here…”

“Hey now, it’s fine. I figured Teach would be a guy to keep his cards close to his chest. Maybe you can tell us about the other leader those Kingdom kids fight under though?”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Dimitri?”

Hilda, who had gotten close without her knowing, wrapped her arm around Marianne. “Of course, Dimitri! Spill the beans, Marianne. What’s the crown prince of Faerghus really like?”

“Any vulnerabilities?” Claude asked.

“Anything _juicy?_ ” Hilda also added.

“Um. Well- I, um. I- I…don’t know?” She wanted to attribute the sudden interrogation as reason for her stumbling mind, but she knew there was more to it than that.

“Oh, come on.” Leonie had her hands on her hips accusingly. “If you’re not with us, you’re usually with him most of the time. You mean to tell me he hasn’t told you anything at all when you two spend lunch together alone?”

“Uh- wait, how do you know that?” Marianne usually eats alone in secret from the Golden Deer when she needs time to herself. Dimitri joined her under the pretense of also needing time in silence. 

“You know, it’s fine if you don’t want to share anything revealing about a friend,” Ignatz tried to say.

Raphael butted in. “Yeah! But if there’s anything helpful we should know about, that’d be great!”

“He spent an afternoon teaching you how to use a sword, didn’t he?” Lorenz asked as if he already knew. “Did he share anything noteworthy then?”

Marianne could hear Hilda and Claude whispering ( _“wait, when did that happen, and how did I miss it?”_ ) when Lysithea offered her own opinion.

“Helping the opposition so close to a major battle seems suspicious,” the girl said. “He didn’t do anything subtle to sabotage you, did he?”

“Dimitri would _never_.” 

It was the only sure statement she’s made the entire night, something that stunned the room into a halt for a moment. With everyone staring at her questioningly because of her outburst, she looked away, her face heating. 

She didn’t mean to sound as…aggressive as she did. But the notion was ridiculous to her. Dimitri was too kind. Compassionate. Understanding. Especially to someone who didn’t deserve it. She refused to believe him capable of such a thing as undermining her for his own personal gain.

_Not after all the things we’ve shared_ , she wished to believe.

Claude noticed the palpable lull settling in and was quick to disperse it. He gave her a knowing look before speaking. “The prince isn’t exactly one for subtlety, Lysithea. The guy couldn’t tiptoe around in those greaves. Come now, everyone.” Claude drew the attention back to himself and away from Marianne. “Let’s finish what’s left and then get to dinner before it’s too dark.”

The comment threw everyone back into a more relaxed chatter. Marianne eyed Claude who gave her a wink. 

She mouthed a thank you.

* * *

**_ 10:25 p.m. on the 27th day of the Wyvern Moon, 1180 _ **

Even in the outskirts of the area, the Dining Hall was convivial and cheerfully loud. Sounds of laughter, clattering plates, and celebratory music could be heard from anywhere in the Monastery.

With a Blue Lions’ victory, Dimitri would consider the day a tremendous success. With all three houses packed together into the Dining Hall in a celebratory feast, students of all walks of life mingling and talking about, Dimitri would dare to say that this moment now holds a microcosm of the bright future that will soon envelope Fodlan. 

It was difficult not to be joyful.

With the grand battle over, it seemed that all students had most of their grievances set aside and replaced with a want for fun and excitement. His friends were certainly partaking in the festivities. Ingrid had been sampling all dishes the entire night along with keeping Sylvain in check from other girls. Mercedes and Annette were happily conversing with Lysithea, the latter gratefully accepting their baked sweets. Ashe had somehow convinced Felix to stay a little and now had the swordsman locked in intense interhouse arm wrestling contest. While Felix was no match for Raphael, Dedue was quick to pick up. 

In the middle of it all was the professor drifting from one group of students to the next, the usually wooden man showcasing a rare amount of emotion of humor in his actions. 

It was good for them. All of them.

Dimitri found himself alone in the corner of the Hall, content with surveying the faces of his colleagues. Claude, despite the uproarious atmosphere, had eaten his way into a nap sleeping comfortably across a table. With faces full of mischief from their friends that surrounded him, it seemed Claude was finally getting retribution from his own antics throughout the year.

Even with the swirl of colors and erratic movements of bustling bodies, Dimitri’s eyes were caught on certain light indigo locks that looked to be drifting slowly through the sea of people. He watched them eventually separate from the mass and exit the hall towards the area of the Fishing Pond.

With no one particularly bothered to watch him, he grabbed two glasses and followed.

She was there leaning against the parapet looking out to the pond water reflecting the night sky. He approached slowly in hopes of saving her a scare. She turned at the sound of his steps and her features softened once she recognized him.

“Dimitri.” 

Marianne said his name like a reassurance, a word she used like she could cover herself under it.

It almost made him stumble.

He stood next to her and placed the glass on the wall they leaned against. 

“Oh. Um. I don’t really drink…”

He chuckled. “It’s juice. Apples, I believe.”

She hummed a short sound. She eventually reached for the drink but didn’t care to consume it. 

Marianne was still looking out at the water and the stars reflectively. He did so as well, the slightest shimmer in the water’s surface making the starry sky look ethereally elegant. 

“Everyone’s having fun,” Marianne whispered to him. 

“They are. Months of hard work finally paying off for this moment. I saw you enjoying yourself as well.” He pretended to not take notice of her whenever she was in the corner of his eye smiling to herself in her friend’s company or giggling at whatever silly happening garnered a crowd’s attention. 

“I was. I am.” 

Her whispering and cautious tone had him drawn in. He lowered his own voice subconsciously to match hers. 

“Is there a reason you’re out here?”

“Not particularly…maybe I needed time to think, perhaps.”

He set his glass down. “Our thoughts aren’t always the safest place to find refuge.”

She nodded but kept quiet, electing to stare ahead.

Dimitri couldn’t sense a lingering feeling of sadness from her, but he understood that being with her would keep her calm.

The festive sounds seemed far away from the two of them now as he waited near her for whatever came next. 

Marianne took in a measured breath, deep and preparatory.

“Do you think…do you think it’s okay to be like this?”

His head turned in her direction. She was gripping her hands tightly. 

“To be like what?”

“To be…like them,” she settled on, pointedly moving her head to the Dining Hall behind them. “To be cheerful. To be free. To be…hopeful.”

_Oh._

It was a question borne from the battered self-esteem of one who felt deserved no pleasantries. He wanted to tell her that of course it was fine, of course you can be this way, that _I want you to be this way._

But he directed the question to himself and felt his own resolve shaking. 

Should _he_ be feeling this way? Can he be like this when there’s still so much to do? When there’s so much to make up for? When he needed to requite? 

He could see the reason for her hesitance. 

Were people like them deserving of happiness?

He watched the girl beside her waiting with bated breath, hopeful and fearful of what he would say like the many other times she has sought his opinion. When he thought of himself, he felt that he deserved no reprieve for his undeserved survival. But when he thought of her, he could only see someone that deserved everything that a good life could give them. 

And if they felt they were the same, the both of them, then was it so far-fetched to think he could have the same things she deserved?

He picked up his drink again and held it before her. 

“Let’s raise a glass to it then.”

Marianne furrowed her brow, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s pledge to this moment,” he said. “That you and I can be like this. That two beings such as us can find solace in our futures.”

It was certainly a grand promise. What would it be like to look towards a path that wasn’t muddled by self-loathing or bloodshed? 

“ _Our futures…_ ” She whispered it to herself as if to roll it around, testing the merits of it and if it deigned acceptance.

Marianne picked up her glass. Dimitri smiled as he gently clinked his with hers. 

He downed his liquid, and Marianne giggled softly at the show of it. She took a small sip from her drink.

“To our futures.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took awhile.  
> Sorry for those who wait, life and classes are getting pretty intense right now so the updates have been longer, but I will finish this! I don't plan on putting this thing away.
> 
> Also, I don't know comment etiquette and whether its rude to not reply or not, but I do read all of them, and I am very grateful for all the support! I appreciate everything everyone says.
> 
> until next time


	11. Red Wolf Moon (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contemplating a change of scenery

**_3:00 p.m. on the 4th day of the Red Wolf Moon, 1180_**

In their own area in the busy Training Grounds, Marianne raised her hand and let the telltale sign of healing magic radiate from her palm in the way she had done so many times before. It was just a demonstration for the girl beside her watching, the personified bundle of energy of the Blue Lions staring intensely and humming to herself in thought. 

“Hmm…okay, I see what’s going on…” Annette mumbled to herself, tapping her chin and studying Marianne’s glowing hand. The redhead then sprung back looking pleased with herself. Marianne let her arm drop.

“Um. Was that fine?”

“Perfect!” The short girl nodded vigorously before looking over her shoulder. “Alright you two, come on! Let’s see if this works!”

Her two classmates had been waiting patiently to come over and did so once signaled. 

One of them, at least. 

Ashe happily wandered close to sit beside them. The other refused to move from his spot looking as uninterested as one could possibly be. Marianne waited for him to move knowing she should have been expecting otherwise. 

“I know you heard me, Felix,” Annette called out. “Don’t make me come over there!”

He groaned. “What the hell do you even think you can do to me?” Despite apparently challenging her threat, the prickly boy followed and reluctantly made himself comfortable within their three, now four, person circle. 

Annette clapped her hands together. “Okay! You first, Ashe!”

“Right!” 

Marianne watched the gray-haired boy retrieve a small pocketknife from his assorted pouches. She observed him quickly collecting himself before applying a small cut on the top of his hand where it met the arm. It wasn’t dangerous, only deep enough to bleed little. She still winced, though, the sight of the act and the blood reminding her of darker times. 

“Alright. Now, if I do this and move like that and focus here like how Marianne did…” The small sorceress muttered to herself, fully immersed. With almost wordless sounds leaving her mouth, she floated her hand above Ashe’s cut where her hand began emanating a solid green-white glow. The wound healed instantly with no trace of it left at all. 

“Woo!” The girl cheered herself on and excitedly high-fived Ashe’s healed hand. “Your turn, Felix!”

Even with a roll of his eyes and a look of extreme annoyance on his face, Felix rolled up a sleeve and stretched it out towards them where Annette quickly, yet carefully marked a longer but similar cut to Ashe’s. Marianne was always surprised at how easily the optimistic girl could get her grouch of a classmate to oblige to her pleas.

The Golden Deer looked on as Annette repeated the same spell utilizing similar technique to the ones she had asked Marianne to show her. The result was the same, Felix’s wound disappearing with a blink of an eye. 

There was another victory cheer as Ashe let out a congratulatory applause and Annette (forcefully) high fived Felix. The girl quickly directed her positive energy towards her.

“It worked! Thanks, Marianne! Mercie was busy, but I knew you’d be just as good with helping me figure this out.” The somber girl retreated backwards reflexively as Annette cheerfully leaned close to thank her. 

“It’s fine. I’m sure you would have figured it out on your own sooner or later.”

“Maybe, but you made it much easier! As expected from one of the best healers at the Academy!”

Such high praise. It made her uncomfortable. 

“I think you’re exaggerating…” She could feel Ashe shake his head next to her. 

“There’s no need for that! Annette’s right. Your skills are exceptional. Right, Felix?” 

The sharp-tongued Lion said nothing but gave a reluctant shrug and looked away. Marianne has spent enough time around Felix to know that was the closest to an admission of praise he could give.

Not wanting to waste their time arguing, she relented. “Whatever you all say…”

“Aww, don’t be like that,” Annette cooed as she sidled up against her. “If you weren’t as effective as you say, the Professor wouldn’t keep coming around to you now, would he?”

“That’s right! Even then, you’ve been so ingrained into our field assignments, it’s hard to remember that you aren’t with us.”

Marianne frowned. “‘With us?’”

“Oh. You know,” Ashe said with an ambiguous motion with his hand. “You’re not technically a Blue Lion despite how much you’ve been with us. Not that it’s a bad thing! Just an observation!” The young boy’s stuttered backtracking didn’t stop Marianne from feeling some pang of pain at the fact, but Ashe bashfully smiled, bringing her back from feelings of isolation. “To be honest, I may or may not have called you a part of our class once or twice.”

“Really?” The admission surprised her. 

Annette nodded. “Ashe is right. A lot of us consider you one of our own at this point!” she added. “Ingrid and Mercedes are always taking you into account for small supply runs and tactics meetings already! Even the professor thinks highly of you, especially after those supplemental lessons in horseback riding. You know…” the small girl then leaned in, speaking with hints of mischief in her voice, “none of us would be opposed to you joining officially… Nothing against the Golden Deer, of course, but you’d fit just perfectly with us. You already do!”

There was playfulness in Annette’s eyes and agreement in Ashe’s face, but she could tell they weren’t merely throwing out a simple hypothetical. 

“Um… I don’t know…” 

Joining the Blue Lions? The thought has crossed her mind, once or twice, but only a fleeting feeling in the company of someone currently not present. She dwelled on the possibility ever since her lessons with the professor and the prince. She had felt freer and unrestrained in a way she could relish. If her Crest unleashed the worst in her, astride a steed did the opposite. But she couldn’t finish her training where she was currently. Not with how the house curriculum system worked. 

“It’s an important decision, don’t get us wrong,” Ashe said, noticing the thought plastered on her face. “Just know that if you ever do, you have all the Lions ready to welcome you with open arms!”

All of them. Marianne could see the appeal. Her frequent assistance with the class has bled into their Academy life. Whether it’d be catching Dedue in the Greenhouse or helping Ingrid tend to her pegasus, she began to wonder how she didn’t notice how seamlessly her interactions with them no longer became one-off occurrences. Perhaps the two before her weren’t so far off. She was a Lion in all but name.

Still, the thought of leaving her current class, it made her stomach churn uncomfortably. What would they think? Would they call her a traitor? Would they refuse to associate with her? The relationships she’s forged with the Golden Deer are something she’s secretly cherished, but would it all disappear if she left them? The ones who reached out to her first, would they also be the first ones to realize what treachery could be borne of her nature?

“Oh!” Annette suddenly sprang from her spot. “Mercie should be just about finished with her certification studies! I promised to meet her right after. We need to get our weekly shopping list ready for our class’ supply run.” She found herself frozen in the enveloping arms of the girl before subsequently being released. “Thanks again, Marianne! And Ashe, you gotta help us too!”

“Wha- hey!” Marianne watched Annette quickly drag herself and Ashe towards the exit. Stumbling to keep up, the boy waved goodbye and called out to her. “See you later, Marianne! Think about what we said, okay?” The two left, maneuvering ungracefully through the busybodies of the Training Grounds.

She sat alone again, before long, left to think under the noise of clattering weapons and recoiling dummies. She sighed and closed her eyes hoping to recollect herself. 

What should she do? Was studying under the banner of Faerghus really an option? The Golden Deer would understand. They always did with her, for better or worse. And what would a house transfer entail, really? A title change and a different daily curriculum. Nothing was barring her from abandoning those she already knew. 

She breathed in. They would accept her. She could improve. An opportunity to better herself was within her grasp. All she had to do was reach out. Reach out to it. Reach out to them. To the Lions. To the professor. To-

“You.”

Marianne inhaled sharply, her defensive instincts causing her to jump. Felix stood, towering over her. He stared at her critically. 

“Felix?” She tried not to let her voice shake to not show weakness. He would never hurt her, she knew, but it didn’t change his intimidating behavior. “Can I help you?”

He didn’t answer her, instead tilting his head and looking at her. 

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“I’m… afraid I don’t follow.”

“Transferring to the Blue Lions. You’re giving it serious thought.”

Still looking up at him, she answered as stable as she could. “I… am. Do you not wish for that?”

“Psh. I could care less what you decide.” Harsh words sugarcoated by a tone that betrayed the aggression. Marianne learned it was a habit of his. “But I wanted to give you a warning.”

“Warning?” She sat straighter, worriedly. 

“Yes. I know you might want to transfer to work on whatever skills you want. But I also know that you’re considering the people you’d be joining as well, right?” Confused, she nodded cautiously. “Good. Then just know that joining us for the people… the _person_ you’re thinking of is the worst way to make this decision.”

Person…

“Excuse me?” 

“You two have been getting close,” he continued. “I don’t know what he’s doing that makes him so captivating to you but keep your distance. It’s a ruse. Make your decision for _yourself_. Not for him.”

She stood up to him, still looking up but no longer in a position of meekness. Her sudden brazenness quickly had her faltering, though, the sensation wholly unfamiliar. But after making a show of it, she couldn’t back down so easily.

“I’d…appreciate it if you didn’t make assumptions about what I’m thinking. I know what I’m doing.”

Felix had taken a step back but appeared unfazed. They glared at each other for some indeterminate amount of time. 

Finally, Felix sighed before turning away. Marianne would have gratefully taken this opportunity to collect herself, perhaps even find humor in staring back at the boy infamous for his cold glares, but she saw that the same look had vanished from his features. 

His face wasn’t pointed and scowling anymore. The ever-present challenge in his eyes was missing, replaced by some unknown anguish that seeped through.

“I’m just trying to help,” he spoke, hushed. “Whatever you’re seeing… it’s not real. Not anymore.”

“Not anymore?” she repeated. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, he growled before hardening his face again. “Forget it. You heard my spiel. Do what you want with it. Hopefully not anything stupid.”

He walked away, his hurried steps taking him out of her vision before she could understand everything.

She sat back down, suddenly feeling tired from the invisible weight she was unknowingly holding during her conversation with him.

_Keep your distance._

_It’s not real._

_Not anymore_

Marianne tried to contextualize the words with the boy Felix was trying to paint. 

She couldn’t fit them all together.

She couldn’t imagine everything up to now being some perfectly crafted illusion.

She refused to, at least.

* * *

He leaned against the wall of his dorm, both arms outstretched and holding him up. 

“Nngh.”

His head throbbed painfully. The aching made him squeeze his eyes shut in hopes of mitigating the feeling.

It proved fruitless.

_Arundel is here. After all this time withholding donations to the Church, he decides to stay now. Why?_

He squeezes his hands into fists to divert attention away from his pounding skull.

_Surely it’s a coincidence. This is all simply nothing._

“You know that is not true”

Dimitri’s eyes shoot open at the sound of that voice behind him. 

He doesn’t dare turn around.

“Even if it’s not,” he manages to respond, “there’s nothing else connecting him.”

“You’re lying to yourself, my son.” The voice is low, almost comforting. When it speaks again, Dimitri can almost feel the breathing. “The answer is close. You are so close to finding it.” Dimitri places his forehead against the wall trying to create distance, but he can sense the lingering presence only getting closer. 

The voice is in his ear.

“But maybe… you don’t wish to? Do you already wish to forget? Forget us? Forget _me?_ ”

“No!”

He spins around frantically to grab his father’s hands, to explain himself and to apologize for his indecision.

He grasps thin air.

Only then does Dimitri realize he’s breathing heavily. As if to punctuate the passing of the moment, his head throbs one last time, disorienting him. His hand goes to his temple.

He barely has time to fix himself when his door opens.

“Your Highness?” Dedue is there, vigilant and ever worried. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“It’s nothing, Dedue,” Dimitri says routinely. He makes sure to keep his pale face turned away from his guardian. 

“Your Highness… you were speaking to someone.”

Dimitri didn’t have an immediate response to give. It had been quite some time since he had been caught like this. He was out of practice. 

“You were hearing things, Dedue. But I apologize if I alarmed you either way.”

Finally feeling up to the task, he turns to his friend. Concern is plain on Dedue’s face. Dimitri can tell he knows that he’s lying. 

There was a sheet in the tall boy’s hand which provides a chance for Dimitri to dance away from the topic at hand. 

“What is it that you have there?”

“A shopping list. Annette and Mercedes have taken our classmates’ requests into account. I was preparing to go to town.” Dedue frowned and looked up and down at Dimitri. “But maybe I should leave the task to someone else…”  
“Let me.”

The prince’s request caught the other off guard as Dedue stumbled over his words to protest.

“I’m sorry Your Highness, but are you sure? You were… you seem unwell.”

“Then perhaps fresh air would help alleviate my issues.” In all honesty, Dimitri did not care about the shopping. He needed an escape, and more time to himself. He needed to clear his mind.

“Let me accompany you, then.”

“No. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Your Highness-”

“ _Dedue_.”

Dimitri rarely spoke in a way that sounded more like orders than requests, but he was in no mood to argue. Even then, a pang of guilt ran through him whenever he watched his friend’s sense of duty go at war with his inner instincts. 

The Duscur boy sighed in defeat. But when he handed the list over, his face grew serious. “May I at least implore that you sleep early tonight? No leaving at the late of night?”

Dimitri shouldn’t be surprised that Dedue knew of his nocturnal investigating. He supposed if he wanted this time to himself, he would have to give up something.

“If it would ease your worries,” Dimitri agreed. He grabbed the list and left, leaving no room for second guessing.

He stepped down from the second-floor dorms to see a cloudy sky and the sun low. It was late afternoon. He was in his room longer than he thought. 

Still, breathing in the outside air, he was pleased to know that things would be less rambunctious than if it were the busier parts of the day. He pored over the list already beginning to make mental notes to himself. 

He made sure to keep himself focused to ignore the feeling of his father’s eyes on his back.

* * *

The Dining Hall was emptying out with people either leaving their plates with full stomachs ready to retire. Some late stragglers found themselves picking up a plate to shovel in quickly before leaving themselves. Marianne found herself a part of the latter.

She had kept to herself mostly after helping Annette in the Training Grounds earlier today. The subject of transferring left her in deep contemplation, and she spent her last hours in the Cathedral asking the Goddess for guidance. As she picked up a lukewarm dish with her growling stomach, she wished she paid just a bit more attention to the time.

One thing about late dinners in the Dining Hall is that there was an ample amount of free space for her to choose from and plenty of time to be by herself. But as she picked at her meal in silence, she lamented the absence of some form of company.

The thought amused her somewhat. She was no social butterfly. Far from it. But to wish to share in the company of others… it would have been a foolish dream to the same girl from months ago. She desperately needed some form of outlet as her head rolled over the question of transferring repeatedly. 

The last remnants of the other diners provided no reprieve from her running mind, but at least the meal quelled her rumbling stomach. Seeing that she was truly alone right now and left with her conundrum was doing her no favors. Maybe if she were with a friend… 

_It’s not real._

She sighed. 

Though the night was getting late, she exited the Dining Hall towards the one area she felt she could find some relief in. The stables were relatively quiet with not many stable hands out and about. She peeked through closed stalls only to find one slightly ajar. With only a slight movement to push it open, she smiled as Dorte nearly barreled out and nuzzled her affectionately. 

“There, there,” she whispered to him, rubbing her hand through his mane. 

The horse was still surprisingly energetic for the hour it was. By the way he seemed to walk in place, she assumed he must have recently been put to rest.

“You did some extra work today, didn’t you?” Marianne laughed softly as Dorte whinnied in affirmation. She grabbed a handful of nearby hay and held it to him. “Here. My treat.”

Being in such a familiar position helped take her mind off her current predicament. How nice would it be for the moment to last, she thought. 

“Spoiling Dorte again, I see?”

She gasped in surprise but relaxed when she turned to see a playful smile from a familiar face.

Marianne stood to him. “Dimitri. I apologize, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be out here as well.”

_Certainly not you,_ she thought to herself.

She was focused on his smile, but under the torchlight, she could make out more of his features. Maybe it was a trick of the lighting, but the space beneath his eyes appeared darker than usual. They looked sunken. If she looked hard enough, she would dare venture to say he looked a bit… haggard. 

A flickering of the light drew her out of her inspection. What she thought was there only appeared harder to find. Not wanting to stare any longer, she went back to Dorte. 

“I suppose I should stop treating Dorte so much. Still, he worked extra hard today out in the field. I thought that… maybe he deserved a little reward.”

Dorte agreed as he continued to chew on whatever Marianne gave him. She heard Dimitri hum as the prince stepped over towards the hay she was pulling from. She watched him grab his own handful and look to her, questioning. She nodded to him and pulled away, her own hand under Dorte being replaced by his. She was pleased to see Dorte accept it and was amused to see the relief wash over Dimitri’s face. Dimitri never explained the sudden change in relationship between him and the steed, but she was happy to accept the result.

“What brings you out here at his hour, Dimitri?”

The young man stepped away a bit signaling Marianne to come closer, which she did. “I just returned from the town. I had some errands to complete. "I was about to return to my room, but I had a feeling that a certain student would be here, tending to the horses.” He smiled, reserved. “I hope I didn't disturb you."

“Not at all,” she hummed. “I know that I should be in the dining hall eating or studying in my quarters, but... I needed some fresh air. Some time alone with a friend."

"Ah, then are you sure you don't want me to leave you be? No need to be kind for my sake at the expense of yours."

An accommodating response. She said she needed fresh air, but his kindness served as an equal, soothing treatment. She was smiling before she even spoke. 

"Well... It's fine. I did say I could use some time alone with a _friend,_ didn't I?"

The way he smiled back was much more fitting of the boy she knew. Softer, stronger, and gallant. 

_It’s not rea-_

A soft push into her hands left her giggling, Dorte’s neigh almost sounding like a whine. “Don’t worry Dorte. I'm not leaving you alone. You're my friend too."

They proceeded how they usually did when it was just them. With a horse in between them to groom, they talked quietly of small things of scant importance. She told him of how she was continuing the sword drills he taught her. He told her of many children at the town who kept trying to steal his cape. He told her silly things, and he spoke in a way that she wondered if anyone else got to hear. 

Their speaking slowed to a lull, the silent part of their meetings encroaching upon them. Though with nothing to occupy her mind, her thoughts inevitably returned to the matter of houses. Looking across at Dimitri, she realized that any word of a transfer would probably go through to him first after the professor. What would he think? Would he accept? Felix’s words echoed in her head to not make her decision on him, but even then, the House Leader had to decide anyway, didn’t they?

"Is something bothering you Marianne?"

He seemed to always know if something was on her mind. There was no use hiding the information anyway. She could use his opinion.

“I’ve been thinking… I think I want to be more involved with the Blue Lion house.”

“Oh?”

"Well... I've accompanied you all on numerous missions already as inter-house assistance. The professor is also very kind, and he's proficient in areas of study and teaches classes that I simply can't get from my own house..."

What she said was the truth. All of it were reasons pertinent to her decision. 

If she left out more personal reasons here or there, the sin of lying couldn’t hurt her.

Dimitri looked shocked, in a way, but he was quick to answer her. “I agree that your help has been greatly appreciated on our excursions. You've helped all of us more times than I can count, and Annette and Mercedes have told me how you've all picked up techniques from each other. And the professor has taken a liking to you as well." The way he spoke, she wanted to say he sounded excited. “Do you mean to say that you want to change houses?”

She shrugged at hearing the question laid out so bare. This was the issue, wasn’t it?

“I’m not sure… Everyone in the Golden Deer are also people I cherish dearly.” She thinks of Hilda’s lively attempts to bond with her, or Claude’s kindness leaking through his trickery. Her mind comes to Ignatz and the beauty in the world he’s shown her, or Lorenz’s sophisticated compliments. “I can’t imagine separating from them completely. I also don’t want to upset any of them…”

Was that truly the crux of the issue? It was certainly a big part. What would they do when she told them she wished to switch? 

“I understand completely,” Dimitri told her. “There is a certain camaraderie that comes from being of the same allegiance. Though, you don't have to transfer completely. You could always make arrangements between our professors to attend some of our more personalized classes if you so wish."

She took in his words, looking upwards. She knew of what he spoke of and even looked into it a bit herself. It still wouldn’t be enough. 

“It’s just a suggestion, of course,” he followed up. “Has Hilda told you what she thinks about this?”

Hilda? She hasn’t spoken to her about any of this, but she could understand why Dimitri would assume so. They were close. But she trusted another, as well.

“Um, well… truth be told, you’re the only person I’ve discussed this with. You are the house leader of the Blue Lions, of course. And... I feel I can depend on you for advice.” 

“ _Oh._ ”

He turned away from her. She felt her eyebrow raise, confused. He was probably wondering how to give her an answer she was fine with. 

Dimitri was quiet for a time, focusing on tending to Dorte. It made her nervous, in a sense. She always felt that he had an answer for many things. 

“While I can’t give you an answer on how to decide,” he suddenly started, the non-answer in his words slaying her hopes of a definitive choice, “whatever decision you come to, Marianne, I hope that, above all, it’s a decision that will make you happy.”

Happy? The stress of this choice has made her anything but. She looked to him for more. 

“Transferring classes is a simple process in terms of paperwork, but I understand the conflicting feelings you have inside. It isn’t a black and white decision after all. Just know that whatever decision you choose to make, the Blue Lions and I will always be there to accommodate and welcome you, no matter what. I'm sure all of us would take you in, no questions asked. We all treasure your presence greatly.” Such wholesome words spoken to her in his low, clear voice struck through straight to her heart. The purity of his voice was punctuated by his finishing sentence. “And I don’t just mean that as the leader of the house… but as a friend.” 

She closed her eyes.

As a friend… they were friends, of course. Not just him. He’s made it clear. The others would accept her. They were her friends too. She felt the floodgates open in a way as the idea continued to make the rounds around her head.

People have told her so often that they accepted her for what she is, but did she ever accept the fact herself? She could never believe it to be so, but the months have changed her ever so slightly. She had support. There was a network of people for her. Whatever she decided, these people would be there, whether she was deserving or not. People have bled for her mistakes and still stand by her side. She had allies. She wasn’t alone. 

Whatever she did, her friends wouldn’t abandon her. Nothing she did would make them do so, if she believed right. The choice was hers, and there was no wrong answer, no harm to befall anyone, no pain to suffer. 

The revelation seemed so trivial, but the acceptance of it was monumental. 

She was smiling wider than her usual strained attempts. Her eyes opened upon the young prince, her companion. 

“Thank you, Dimitri. I think… you’ve given me some important things to consider. I appreciate it greatly.” 

He nodded, glad. “Of course, Marianne. Anytime.”

The church bells sounded off, a sign that the next late hour had arrived. She found it strange how time passed so quickly. 

“Forgive me, the time must have crept past me. I hope I didn’t waste yours.”

Dimitri shook his head. “There is nothing to forgive. I would hardly call this a waste.”

Turning her apologies into subtle compliments had stirred a warm sensation in her chest. Its warmth was added to the one her epiphany earlier had brought her.

Though she shivered when a passing breeze flew over them, she felt as comfortable as she could be.

“I suppose I’ll be heading over to my room now,” she declared. Despite this, something kept her rooted in place. Whatever warmth she was feeling was addicting, and though she couldn’t discern the source, she had an inkling that the reason for it was where she remained. For once, she didn’t want to leave without it.

“Would you mind if I accompanied you?” Dimitri finally asked.

She could already hear the ominous remarks from Felix earlier today attempting to worm their way back into her thoughts, attempting to sway her decision. _Make the decision for yourself,_ he had urged her.

“I’d like that.”

And so, she did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, I suck.
> 
> This one took awhile, and frankly, it probably could've taken much longer. I've got serious writer's block for this and with the recent focus on midterms and studying over the past few weeks, I haven't had time to really work through this. Still, I wanted to get a basis for this and put something out for anyone that's waited. 
> 
> On the bright side, Dimimari week is coming up and I might use that as a way to overcome this funk. 
> 
> Sorry for the wait, I hope this is serviceable. 
> 
> Also, wash your hands.


	12. Red Wolf Moon (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What he really is.

**_ 8:30 p.m. on the 16th day of the Red Wolf Moon, 1180 _ **

Dimitri exercised breathing techniques, the ambiance of the Cathedral helping to reinforce that the only thing that existed within his space was him and him alone. 

_Him, only him, and the ones that cling to him expectantly._

He let out a shuddering, trembling exhale.

The strain of keeping his darker feelings in check was becoming increasingly difficult. In retrospect looking back on the number of field assignments his class specifically seemed to be going through, it should not have been a surprise that he was beginning to boil over. But it had snuck up on him anyway, the routine of academy life being just enough to cover the death he has dealt these past few months. Now, with his “investigation” gaining headway with Arundel’s appearance and rumblings of nefarious events growing more and more commonplace, he struggled to keep himself together, to keep his appearances normal, to drown out _the incessant whispering and pleas-_

He heard creaking wood before realizing how hard he had been squeezing the back of the pew in front of him.

There were quiet whispers and careful footsteps near the front of the Cathedral. Dedue had been adamant on not leaving him be no matter what the prince ordered, so the stalwart guardian stood watch for him. The boy was probably greeting a wandering guard, he figured, or one of the many few that came to pray. 

But as the footsteps grew closer towards his direction, the familiar pace and grace of how they sounded encroaching upon him, he felt a small smile unconsciously creep up on him. 

Marianne stood at the end of his pew, the two exchanging a nod in greeting. She tilted her head at him, a questioning look on her face. He nodded again and motioned for her to sit beside him.

Words without speaking and conversations without volume. He enjoyed them.

He watched her kneel and clasp her hands like so many times before, mumblings of prayers and blessings on her lips. He wondered if he could ever pray like her prayers of faith reached out and touched those meant for them. He could pray, _has_ already prayed tonight for those long gone, but they have lost their substance some time ago, more motion than emotion. 

Maybe his near blasphemous views on religion prevented his words from fully reaching out. Still, with such a shining example of a follower next to him, he may just be saved yet.

His mind drifted to their conversation a week earlier. Had she given transferring any more thought? He would love to have a reliable ally in his ranks to prepare with outside of the missions she assists in, to have a comrade to converse tactics with, to fight with, to speak with, to _share things personally with._

He shook his head in self-flagellation. His train of thought was pure, he assured himself and to any higher powers that were possibly tuning into his thoughts and judging him. 

She carefully lifted herself from her kneeling position to sit comfortably beside him. When she looked at him, gray eyes meeting blue, he had to reassure himself once again.

* * *

**_ 10:45 a.m. on the 20th day of the Red Wolf Moon, 1180 _ **

“Will that be fine? I am asking a lot from you.”

She shook her head. “No, professor. I will be ready if the time calls.”

Her response earned her an approving nod from the Blue Lions’ professor signaling the end of their conversation and his departure. She watched him leave and let out the breath she did not know she had been holding in.

“Secret conversations in plain daylight with Teach? I admit I’m jealous.”

The cool voice of her house leader appeared next to her, and she did everything in her power to not jump in surprise. He had a habit of trying to do that to her.

“Hello, Claude,” she said. “Our talk was far from interesting, I assure you.”

“Oh?” The sovereign duke arched an eyebrow. “No secrets? A scolding, maybe? At least share if there was any interesting gossip.”

She smiled slightly at his antics.

“Nothing of the sort.”

Truthfully, the talk was more serious, if not ominous. He had simply requested that she be ready for departure any time within the next week. There were no other details, but the tone of the professor’s voice indicated something serious. Because of that, she kept the information to herself.

Claude seemed playfully disappointed before his eyes took on a darker glint.

“Well, if it’s not gossip then perhaps you’re finally discussing _that_ with him, hm?”

It was her turn to raise a brow.

“Um… _that?_ ”

Claude smiled knowingly. “Come now, Marianne, no need to play dumb. I basically live in the rumor mill. I know what’s happening behind the scenes. But to think you would request to transfer after all I’ve done for you…”

Oh.

_That._

She looked away ashamedly, not ready for this conversation. This was not how she intended for him to know.

“It wasn’t about that, I swear. Please, forgive me for even-”

A slight chuckle and a comforting hand on her shoulder made her look up to see Claude giving her a consoling gaze. “It was just a joke, Marianne. Sorry for springing up on you like that, but I thought we’d get this conversation done sooner rather than later.” He looked much more easygoing. 

“You’re… not mad?”

“Of course not. Disappointed, yes, but only because we’d be losing a valuable friend in a sense.”

She clenched her hands at that. 

“I’ve only slightly considered it,” she tried to reason. “I’m not even sure if I want to.”

Claude looked at her much more sternly. “Marianne. You don’t have to lie.” He began walking, ushering for her to follow along. It was easier to relax while being in motion like this. It was probably why he did it. “I’m serious when I say we’re not mad.”

“It feels like a betrayal, in a sense.”

“Ah, don’t be so dramatic,” the boy jested. “Students transfer houses all the time. Just cause you’re in a new house doesn’t mean you’re throwing your allegiances away for good. Lots of students do it to hone personal skills. Besides, Teach probably has half of the student body under his tutelage already.”

They rounded a corner bringing them to the Academy courtyard in front of the classrooms, students training or lazing about. She followed Claude in silence, not knowing how to respond. Their journey seemed aimless until they stopped abruptly. She was confused until she followed Claude’s gaze to a clump of the Blue Lions discussing amongst themselves under the shade of a tree.

“I’ve had reservations on some of them, sure,” Claude continued. “But they’re not so bad. Some are a bit too ingrained in tradition for my taste and one’s got a stick so far up his ass he’s a walking meat skewer, but they’re good people and welcome you with open arms. They bring something out of you, that’s for sure. As house leader, I’m fine with letting my own walk for that.”

She listened to him, watching the Blue Lion students converse gleefully with each other. She tried to imagine herself in that group as easily as she imagines herself fitting snugly in with the Golden Deer.

She made it work.

“Thank you, Claude. I’ll… continue to give it thought.”

He patted her on the back chummily. 

“Just let me know when you make your decision,” he winked. “Gotta make sure I remind them of the repercussions if they screw up with one of our own, different houses or not.”

She winced in pity for them as Claude laughed.

* * *

**_ 6:32 p.m. on the 23rd day of the Red Wolf Moon, 1180 _ **

The dark marketplace lit up by torchlight reminded Dimitri that he had sorely underestimated this supply run. 

He was handed a single sheet filled top to bottom with requested needs, a daunting task all on its own. What Annette and Mercedes did not tell him was that the _back_ of the sheet was the same. All that time he spent pacing himself he remembered in pain as the time that could have been spent hurrying along this process. 

He sighed as he readjusted the overflowing bags of trinkets, ingredients, tomes, and weapons on his back. Dedue lumbered over to him carrying a similar assortment of packs filled with heavy shields and axes. He looked to be struggling slightly more.

“Is that… all of it… Your Highness?” 

The poor boy panted out his words trying to put up his best front for his liege. Dimitri felt equal parts bad and amused. 

“You acquired the vulneraries…” Dimitri glanced over the list, top to bottom, front and back. “Yes, that should be everything. To think we’d spend the entire afternoon on a half-hour trip.” 

“Yes… how very unfortunate.” Dedue pulled the bags back more comfortably on his shoulder with a pained grunt. “Can we- can we please leave? Before it’s too dark?”

Dimitri smiled sympathetically.

“Yes, let’s. I must say, though, the marketplace at night has a certain charm to it. Maybe it’s the way the torches light… up…”

The prince trailed off as the mentioned firelight lit up a certain color in the distance. His eyes trained in the direction of it finding several similar looking things. 

He was entirely captivated by whatever he saw, so much so that he dropped the bags he was carrying at the feet of his protector.

“Um, just a moment, Dedue. Watch these for a moment.”

“Your Highness? Wait- Your Highnes-”

Dimitri ignored the clattering sounds as he single-mindedly made his way to whatever caught his eye.

He came to a stall that he was not entirely expecting to see. The stall of a florist greeted him, an assortment of colors covering the thing. He scanned over the flowers wondering if he had made a mistake in what he saw before his target became apparent.

A bundle of pale white flowers was surely the perpetrator of his enchantment as he carefully crept to them, admiring them. He hadn’t seen anything like this kind back home, though he was never a connoisseur of such things to begin with. 

The bulbs of the flower were numerous for every stem, and upon closer inspection, every drooping bulb had the faintest blue hue to them. It reminded him of picturesque snowflakes he imagined the small specks to be. They were… beautiful. Lovely. He was slowly reaching out to touch. The color was too comforting and familiar.

“You touch it, you buy it.”

His hand snapped back, and he broke from his trance. A portly old man stepped out from the stall, gray hairs covering his head and chin. The smile he bore seemed to suggest his threat was more a joke.

“Pardon me,” Dimitri started. He looked at the subject of his attention, still enthralled. “Excuse me, but what are these? I haven’t seen flowers like these before.”

The florist looked over the flowers. “This is a Lily of the Valley,” he answered. “Lilies, though, I suppose I should clarify. Those bulbs sure are a sight, aren’t they?”

“Lilies?” Dimitri hummed in thought. “They don’t look like any lilies I’ve seen before.”

“They’re different from what you think a lily is, maybe, but I didn’t name them, son. Still,” the old man stroked his beard, “you look particularly amazed. These flowers aren’t exactly the rarest around.”

“I see. Faerghus climates don’t usually allow for a plethora of options.”

The man nodded in understanding. “Ah, Faerghus. Winter isn’t always a bad thing for plants, though that’s assuming the winter ends. I’ll cut you some slack then. Do you want some? That color is certainly nice, innit?”

Dimitri nodded. “Very.”

Before he could completely process the transaction, he was left with five flowers overflowing with the white-blue bulbs. He rolled them over in his hands to admire everyone being as gentle as he could possibly be.

“I don’t suppose you plan on giving those to someone, do you?”

“Oh, of course. I already have a person in mind.”

He frowned after the words left his mouth, his brow furrowing. 

He had someone in mind? No, he didn’t. Why did he say that?

His cheeks reddened slightly when he came to his realization.

_Oh. I suppose I do._

The florist gave a hearty chuckle prompting Dimitri to leave hurriedly, giving the man his thanks, and bundling the flowers in a padded bag he held delicately to ensure their survival. 

The images of them were still in his mind despite being out of sight.

_Lily of the Valley…_

Beautiful and lovely things, he thought to himself as he rushed to pick up Dedue drowning under several pounds of steel. 

* * *

Dimitri crossed the bridge to the Cathedral slowly, his tired feet deigning to step slowly under the moonlight. The return trip was cumbersome, even with his superior strength. At least he was still capable of breathing. He had never seen Dedue so red. 

“It’s just… heavy armor training,” the boy said cheekily before collapsing onto Ashe who had tried to catch him.

Though he wouldn’t say he was happy Dedue was exhausted, Dimitri did have an opportunity to spend his night hours alone again, for once. But with no real destination in mind, he settled on ambling absentmindedly to his place of prayer. The night congregation had ended a while ago. The place should be empty.

His slow pace allowed his mind to wander. If he was going to the Cathedral, maybe he really should put effort into praying this time. He knew who to pray for. Their names were always the first ones uttered in his prayers; words muttered to pray for a blissful afterlife. Maybe he should try a different approach to make sure his words weren’t hollow. The times he ever felt his words had weight were when he was led by Marianne. She seemed to make his prayers mean something.

Perhaps there was something to be gleaned from there.

The front entrance doors were shut. Opening them would create a terrible groaning noise, he could tell. He elected to take the long way to the left entrance despite his feet protesting. The small lights illuminating the entrance revealed someone exiting. 

“Marianne, is that you?”

The girl yelped slightly, a hand shooting to her heart. She looked in his direction.

“Dimitri?”

He approached, embarrassed. This always seemed to happen. He bowed.

“Please, forgive me, Marianne. I didn't mean to give you a fright. Though I suppose that the way I made myself known was just asking for a response like that, wasn't it?”

He saw her smile, and he thought for a moment that maybe he shouldn’t be too ashamed.

“Perhaps,” she replied. “What brings you here? It's rather late.”

He wondered how late it truly must have been for her to ask. They weren’t strangers to praying together at night. "I just came back from an excursion to the town. I wanted to give my prayers before I had dinner.” It wasn’t a whole lie, but he didn’t want to say that the only thing that seemed to bring him here was a lack of other options. “What about you? The congregation ended a while ago if I'm not mistaken."

She looked down a bit, a nervous habit of hers. He hoped he wasn’t doing anything to warrant such a feeling.

"You're right, the ceremony ended. Sometimes I like to stay after, though. I... like the time to myself alone in silence with the Goddess. I hope that doesn't sound too selfish.”

He laughed. "Not at all. There's no fault in wanting silence for yourself. To tell you the truth, I've always found it hard to stay still during these formal ceremonies and procedures, especially in moments of reverence. I relish moments of solitude like yours. Call it childish, but I always feel as if the world around me can hear the thoughts that flow within my head."

Memories of standing, sitting, and kneeling in the presence of his father and retinue of warriors during times of prayer came to him. 

"What have you come to pray for, if I may ask?"

Her simple questions immediately twisted the image of his father and those soldiers from praying with him to pleading for his prayers instead, begging him. His expression darkened, and he held back a grimace. 

Marianne scrambled in response. "Forgive me, that- that was insensitive of me. I apologize, I know that-"

“It’s quite alright, Marianne.” He tried to smile to ease her guilt. 

_What have I come to pray for?_

"I always pray for the safety of my comrades. But tonight, I came to... ask for forgiveness, I suppose. I wanted to pray for the ones I've lost. It's been a while since I've last paid them their respects."

That seemed right. He’s prayed for their souls to rest peacefully, but maybe he should focus more on apologizing for sending them there. 

Names popped up into mind, one in particular stubbornly making itself known. 

"I've come to pray for more, actually," he continued slowly, but couldn’t bring himself to finish. 

It wasn’t strange to tell someone you were praying for them, was it? But telling Marianne so made him feel awkward. What made it strange this time unlike with other people?

“Dimitri?”

He shook his head. "Ah, well... it's nothing. I apologize for that."

Another question for another time.

She didn’t say anything afterward, shuffling from side to side. "I see. I'll... leave you to your prayers then." He nodded, watching her go. 

As she turned her back to him, though, his eyes looked over her and fell upon the top of her head. Her pale blue hair triggered a spark of reminder within him.

"Oh, Marianne” he called out. “Before you go." Dimitri retrieved the padded satchel and stuck his hand in carefully, peeling away layers protecting the treasure within. "Truth be told, I was actually hoping to cross paths with you soon. Sooner than I thought, though.” He huffed amusedly. “And you insist that you aren't lucky for me."

Dimitri pulled the last of the coatings away revealing the lilies. He pulled them out with care and held them out to her.

She looked confused at first before taking them into her hands. With a better look, she seemed to gasp.

“Oh my…”

In watching her inspect the flowers, Dimitri began to fully understand the gesture of what he just did.

He suddenly became very self-conscious. 

"I was at the market in town when I saw a vendor selling some flora,” he added quickly. “Usually I don't pay attention, but I saw these flowers and..."

He made a vague motion with his hand as if that would explain it all, something she did not see as she rolled the flowers in her fingers.

“Dimitri…”

He found himself nervously tapping his foot. When did he start doing that?

"They're lilies, apparently, though ones I've not been aware of.” He tried to talk to distract his growing self-imposed discomfort. “If I recall, the man said they were-" 

“Lily of the Valley,” she finished for him.

“Yes. That’s the one.”

He watched (uncomfortably) as she held the flowers in between her hands. Did she hate them? Was this normal? Why did he act without thinking this over? Maybe he should forgive Dedue for hawking over him because he was meant to stop him for doing stupid things like this-

"These... these can't be for me, are they?" 

She looked at him both worriedly and in wonder. 

“Of course. I was hoping we would meet soon so you could receive them quickly," he answered.

Was he supposed to take them back? Was that what that question was for?”

“Why… why did you get these?” he heard her ask. “How did you know what today was?”

…was this a test? She looked shocked. 

"Today...? What's today?" he asked cautiously.

“It’s… you know… today?” 

“...the twenty-third?”

He put a hand to his chin to break down the question. Maybe today was a holiday? And maybe on this holiday, it was illegal to give flowers. Is that why she was shocked?

He tried not to growl at his stupidity. He was overthinking this.

"Well... yes, today," Dimitri settled on. He should just explain himself. "I was at the market when I saw these flowers. I couldn't help but think of how lovely they looked the way they were. I wouldn't say I have an eye for these things, but they just seemed to glow beautifully to me. They made me think of you, and I thought you just had to have them."

He was proud of himself for giving an acceptable answer. 

He was until he saw her eyes go wide and her face redden. He mentally spoke his words back to himself.

_Shit._

"Uh- ah- I mean- the flowers, they were stunning and thought of you- er, thought _that you_ would like them. Of course. I thought that you would like them. Yes. That's what I meant."

He gauged the distance of the bridge to the valley below. If he jumped, would he survive?

It didn’t matter. 

He breathed in deeply. Marianne had done nothing with the flowers so far.

"Do you... do you not like them?" He was afraid of the answer for fear of ruining whatever dignity he had left. “I'm not exactly keen to your tastes so I hope they're alright."

Instead of her rebuking him, he watched a smile grow on her face. A very wide, real, _lovely_ smile.

"These flowers... they're my favorite. I love them very much."

What was once dreadful embarrassment became a very fiery feeling of relief and warmth in his chest. He tried not to let it show. 

"Still, you didn't have to get these for me. I hope they didn't cost too much."

He let out a hearty laugh, one fueled by the high from his earlier relief. "I will admit,” he started, “they were more than I expected... but if they bring you smiles like that, then I think I can withstand lighter pockets."

It was quicker than his reflexes expected because the girl surrounded him in an encompassing hug before he could register it. 

"Thank you, Dimitri. Truly."

He slowly returned the gesture and wrapped her arms around her. His mind was… abuzz. Things that should be normal to him felt so vastly different with this girl for whatever reason. She clung to him, and he felt emotion pouring from her, maybe more than she knew she was letting out. It was like she was venting out some withheld things. He elected to not say anything, instead rubbing small circles on her back.

"Of course, Marianne,” he whispered. “Anytime, my friend."

They separated eventually, and the following conversation was a mixed blur. He only knows bidding her farewell and watching her form grow smaller in the distance as she left.

He entered the Cathedral when she was far and away. He sat in a dazed-like state but not like the ones born from terrible events. It was different. 

When he prayed, spurred on by the energy within him, he felt they had purpose. 

He was… much more content.

* * *

**_ 11:40 a.m. on the 25th day of the Red Wolf Moon, 1180 _ **

Marianne’s pen scratched her notebook noting down the important information from Hanneman’s lecture on siege tactics. The class was relatively normal with Hilda dozing off beside her and Hanneman gleefully going on.

“And so, sieges, depending on the target, can last for as long as weeks to years! Truly the tenacity of and battle of wills is put on display when-”

The crest scholar was cut short as Golden Deer’s classroom door shot open with a bang. Everyone’s attention was drawn towards the source, Hilda squealing in fright. Ashe was standing before them panting as if he had run over in a hurry. However, under their shocked gazes, he withered.

Hanneman slammed his lecture notes on his desk. “What is the meaning of this?!”

The archer stumbled over his words. “Ah- uh- Forgive me, but there’s- something has happened- something popped up and-”

The Lions’ young prince appeared from the doorway and took stock of the situation. Marianne noted a deathly serious expression on his face. Dimitri placed a hand to steady Ashe before bowing before the class. 

“Forgive us, Professor Hanneman, but an emergency has occurred, and the Blue Lions have been tasked to deal with the situation. Professor Byleth requests Marianne’s assistance, and we are in a hurry.”

The class erupted into questions and chatter, all of which were ignored by Marianne. They hadn’t spoken since… the Cathedral, but when Marianne met Dimitri’s eyes, she could tell that the severity of the situation meant that what happened that night must be put on hold. 

“Settle down, settle down!” Hanneman ordered, attempting to corral his students. He looked to Marianne then to two intruders and nodded. “You have my permission. Get going, now.”

She quickly began putting her materials together with Ashe moving over quickly to help. Amidst all the questions and discord, Hilda grabbed Marianne by the arm before she left.

“Be careful out there, okay?”

The Goneril girl gave her a quick hug and ushered her off to go. 

Claude and Hanneman were speaking with Dimitri, no doubt about this emergency by the time Ashe and Marianne arrived. 

“We don’t have time to spare so we’ll have to take our leave,” Dimitri said. “Please, forgive us for interrupting so brazenly once again.”

“Hey, anything to break the monotony,” Claude said without his playful tone. She nodded to Marianne. “Take care of yourselves out there.”

Marianne followed the two Lions who moved hurriedly towards the Monastery gates. This must have been what the professor had prepared her for, but what could call for such a thing?

“What’s going on?” she finally asked. 

Ashe gave her a grave look. “It’s Remire Village. The place has been under watch since the beginning of this moon, but the situation has taken a turn for the worse.”

Remire Village. There were talks of strange happenings possibly occurring in the village, but the talk had settled down a while ago. If only it had stayed that way.

“The villagers seem to be the victims,” Dimitri said with a certain disgust in his tone. “Such good people… it’s where I met the professor as well. To perpetrate such a heinous act…”

She watched the prince snarl, a look that seemed scarily normal on his face. 

“What… what happened to the villagers?”

“They’re supposedly in a frenzy,” a new voice said. A scarred man joined them, armed, and prepared to go. It was the professor’s father, the captain of the Knights. He walked and spoke with urgency. “You guys are the last, right? The rest of the class went on ahead.”

They arrived at the gates with steeds prepared for each of them. Dorte was quick to move to her.

“We’ll catch up,” Jeralt told them. “I ask that you steel yourselves. We don’t have time for weak stomachs now.”

* * *

The chaos was suffocating.

The village was up in flames by the time they arrived, and they watched helplessly as villagers tore into each other, mad or not. The smell of smoke and death permeated Marianne’s being, and she trembled at the bedlam.

Villagers shouted and yelled, the apparent mad ones declaring their bloodlust. Marianne was huddled next to Dimitri with the rest of the Lions watching the madness unfold. 

“What is going on here…” the Blade Breaker muttered, horrified.

Marianne felt shuddering against her, and she turned to find Dimitri clutching his head, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Ungh…”

Byleth worried over his student. “Are you okay?”

Marianne went to check over him for any unseen injuries, but the prince shrugged her off, shaking his head angrily. 

“Don’t waste your time on me,” he told them. “Saving the village is far more important. We haven't a moment to lose!”

She reluctantly relented, but the prince was already sweating and breathing heavily. 

“What can we do amidst such confusion?”

“We'll have to take up arms against the villagers who are rampaging,” Felix answered Dedue. “If we strike carefully, it should be possible to spare their lives.” 

Marianne blanched at the thought. Attacking innocents? How could they do something against their nature? But those rampaging… are they wholly within their right minds? Surely the Goddess would forgive them.

Mercedes despaired. “Oh dear... Isn't there a more peaceful way to deal with this?”

“No matter how long it takes,” Ingrid said while preparing for flight, “we'll need to check and rescue them all, one at a time.”

“Those who have gone mad may be victims themselves,” Ashe muttered. “Is it possible to save them?”

Their sorceress bounced with anxious energy. “Well, saving the poor people who aren't crazy is definitely our top priority! Let's get on with it!”

Sylvain stopped the poor girl from bouncing out of her shoes. “Slow down, Annette. It won't do anyone any good if we panic and get injured ourselves. Don’t wanna give our healers any unnecessary stops, right Marianne?”

She nodded, determined. Now wasn’t the time to crumble under pressure. Innocent lives were at stake, now more than ever.

They all began preparing themselves, brandishing weapons and forming up for an initial charge. She caught Dedue looking off in the distance before calling out to them. 

“Isn't that... Your Highness. Suspicious figures spotted in the village. They seem to be...watching the chaos.”

True to his word, Marianne and the others spotted hooded figures in dark clothing observing the destruction. They seemed wholly unsurprised watching as if the scene before them was a subject of study.

“Are they the ones responsible for this madness?” Dimitri said through gritted teeth. “If so...it's clear what must be done...” 

Dimitri’s entire being shook. At first, she thought it was from fear before she caught a full glimpse of his face. The prince flourished his lance.

“Kill them all,” he declared. “Don't let a single one of them escape. Sever their limbs and crush their wicked skulls!”

She gasped in surprise at such charged words, the rest of the class doing the same. A manic expression overtook what was once Dimitri’s face. His eyes were wide with rage, and his teeth were bared almost sadistically.

Marianne watched the prince advance towards the mysterious men, batting away villagers just as mad as him as easily as he roared in anger. 

Her heart burned at a sudden thought.

_He looks like a beast._

That is not the face of the prince she’s come to know, but her mind returns to her conversation with Felix, his sorrow laced words sowing the first seeds of doubt.

What she’s seen of Dimitri… 

_“It’s not real. Not anymore.”_


	13. Ethereal Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dance.

**_9:20 p.m. on the 8th day of the Ethereal Moon, 1180_ **

Even a week after Remire, Marianne still finds herself staring up at the ceiling of her room on her bed unable to capture a night’s rest. She sighed disappointedly at the prospect of enduring another night of mindless waiting.

She wondered if she was the only one still lingering on the events of that day. The Blue Lions were all shaken on their return, and rumors spread quickly on what happened that horrified them so. They didn’t speak of it, but the word was a tricky thing that eventually wormed its way through the masses. Still, several days after the fact, here she was hung up on the past while the others seemed to move on just fine. 

She shook her head. That wasn’t a fair assessment. They all must still be struggling too. One of them was for certain, at least.

Marianne turned on her side. The battlefield was chaotic that day, but her clearest memories of it only brought images of a young man in blue tearing through human bodies with ferocious glee amidst the flames. She remembers watching both in awe and utterly terrified. Her classmates on the field did so as well. How could a gentleman like the Prince be capable of such brutality? Felix’s constant condemnations began to, unfortunately, make sense to her, much to her dismay. Would this be the new norm of the Prince? A bloodthirsty soldier?

And yet, just as paradoxical as the terrible sight was, the Prince of contradiction shocked her again on their return trip. He privately pulled her aside on their march. Gone were the bared teeth and roaring war cries, instead replaced with distraught shame and sadness. He apologized to her profusely, claiming that such a sight was unbecoming of what his class represented and to not hold such a thing against his classmates. He asked for her forgiveness again and again, less like the Prince she had seen and more like the Prince she knew. 

Perhaps Marianne should have left him there. It would have saved her the internal conflict, saved her the constant wrestling of how to feel towards him. But she remembers months of private conversations. She remembers the nights of silent prayer. She remembers his kindness again and again.

He had treated her not as a curse but as a charm. He treated her like a human, and as she remembers forgiving the Prince, placating his fears and assuring him that she “understood,” she hoped she could do the same for him. 

A series of knocks on her door brought her to her feet. She took a moment to prepare herself for social interaction before the door opened itself, bringing in her two visitors and leaving her frazzled.

“Claude! You can’t just barge into people’s rooms!” Hilda lightly punched at the future duke’s shoulders, a disapproving pout on her face. 

“Hey, like they say, ‘an unlocked door means walk into our floor,’ you know?” The boy’s eyes landed on her, and he bowed slightly. “Still, forgive my intrusion, Marianne. I hope you will find it within your precious heart to forgive me.”

“Um. Yes? Or, I do. I think.”

Seeing that they had already broken the social norms, Hilda plopped herself onto Marianne’s bed right beside her. She wrapped an arm around her. 

“Don’t forgive him, Marianne. Royalty should act better and royalty should _expect_ better. Now, banish him from your quarters!”

“She can’t do that.”

“Yes, she can! Stick it to him, Marianne!”

_How have I survived this long with these two?_

As her two friends’ bickering waned, she found it appropriate to ask the expected question.

“...Why are you two here?”

Claude took one of her chairs and sat on it, leaning forward on the back of it towards her. “You see, _I_ was here to perform a checkup. But _someone_ just couldn’t help but tag along.”

Marianne could feel Hilda sticking her tongue out at him without having to look, but that was unimportant. “A checkup?”

“Mhm.” The boy suddenly paused, the tone shifting into something more serious. “You haven’t been sleeping well since Remire, huh?”

She reluctantly nodded. She should have known. 

Hilda let out a heavy sigh. “Most of the details have gotten out so we got the gist of it. It sounded… pretty gruesome.”

Marianne nodded again in agreement, though gruesome was an understatement.

“Well, we’re not here to try and force you to sleep or anything,” Claude continued. “It’s not like we could, anyhow. But you know the deal, your problems are our problems. Reach out to us if it gets worse.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Hilda let out a satisfied hum and patted her on the back. “Seeing all that stuff must have been terrible. I can understand why you’d be stuck on it.”

Marianne didn’t know whether to tell them that the insane villagers weren't the most horrifying thing she saw that day.

Claude took a moment to stretch, an act that both relieved the tension in his body and the atmosphere of the room. “On a lighter note,” he began, “Professor Hanneman and Professor Byleth have informed me of your recent submission.”

“Oh?” Marianne raised a brow, slightly confused.

“Yup. Your request for transfer to the Blue Lion house has been all but approved,” Claude announced. There was a pang of excitement at the confirmation, but her heart sank a bit at seeing the sad smile on her leader’s face.

“I see,” she muttered, unable to look him or Hilda in the eye. Why did she never get the chance to explain things on her own time?

Fortunately, Claude was graceful in light of the news. “Come on, don’t be like that. I already said that what’s best for you is best for us. Besides, you aren’t the only one who’s thinking about transferring, you know.”

Hilda bounced in her spot. “That’s right! Other Eagles and Deer are thinking about flocking over to the Professor. Who knows, maybe you and I could leave Claude and have him all on his lonesome.” Claude did not seem at all pleased as he shot Hilda a glare. She chuckled. “I’m kidding, geez. I’m stuck with you for the time being. Woe is me.”

Marianne was thankful that they were speaking to fill in her own silence. But she had made her choice. For now, she would be happy that her friends respected it.

“Anyway, a _bit_ of bad news on the transfer is that it’ll take a couple of weeks for it to go through with the world turning upside down and whatnot,” Claude had added. Hilda giggled and squeezed her arms around Marianne.

“And since you’re still stuck with us, I’m gonna make sure your last days with me are the best!”

Marianne smiled softly. “We’ll still have classes together…”

Hilda let out a playful scoff. “Ah, that’s not the same! What can we do before you transfer, huh? My pockets are a bit sparse, but I could always ask my brother for some change.”

“Oh, um, that won’t be necessary.”

“A farewell party sounds great, Hilda. We can hang up decorations, get a cake-”

“That _won’t_ be necessary.”

Her friends laughed, and she found herself smiling along with them. 

Hilda let out a sharp gasp. “Oh! Let me make you some jewelry for the Ball this month as my farewell gift!”

And just like that, Marianne felt her stomach churn. 

“A ball? Um, I don’t think I’ll partake,” she said meekly. Marianne had heard of it but let the news flow past her seamlessly. She would never participate in such a thing. Unfortunately, her fiery friend objected to such a notion.

“What?! But this is the best part of the year! We have to go!”

Claude rolled his eyes. “Eh, I’m with Marianne. Is such a thing really necessary at a time like this?”

“Claude!” Hilda let out a comically large gasp. “You have no right to say such a thing as you have already promised me a dance!”

“What- wait, I did?” 

Hilda ignored him, turning her attention back to Marianne. “Think about it,” the pink-haired girl cooed. “Soft music, good food, and dancing! Don’t play coy with me, I _know_ there has to be someone you want to share a dance with.”

Marianne could feel her face redden at the thought of such a thing. She couldn’t tell if the embarrassment she was already feeling was from the thought of partaking in something that would never come to pass or the thought that a _small_ part inside her agreed with Hilda and that _maybe_ there was someone out there to dance with.

“I’m not any good at dancing, unfortunately,” she settled on saying. The girl groaned and continued.

“Fine, fine. But what about the legend of the Goddess Tower? A man and a woman praying to the Goddess and their wishes come true! No dancing required!”

That captured her attention. She recalls reading of the so-called legend. A prayer in the Tower during the night of the ball where the Goddess would grant any wish. 

It… didn’t sound so bad. 

Claude pried the girl off of Marianne, fortunately. “Alright, Hilda, another time. You keep talking about the ball, and I know you won’t ever stop.” Hilda didn’t give much resistance despite the face she made as she was whisked away outside of Marianne’s room. Claude turned back to the blue-haired girl. “Keep me updated on if you need anything, and I’ll keep you updated on your transfer. Have a good night, Marianne.”

She waved goodbye to him, the boy sauntering out her quarters, but before the door closed, Hilda suddenly popped her head into the room.

“Good night, Marianne! And remember, I have the perfect set of gems that would look great on-”

Her advertisement was cut short, the girl being pulled out by force. Claude dipped his head in and gave her one last smile before locking and shutting her door. 

Marianne tiredly fell back onto her pillow. Those two could be exhausting.

At least she didn’t have to worry about a sleepless night anymore. 

\---

**_10:47 p.m. on the 15th day of the Ethereal Moon, 1180_ **

Dimitri coldly slammed the book into the shelf with a booming thud. The sound bounced back and forth off the walls of the empty library, a small grace as he had been in a foul mood the entire night. He collapsed on an empty seat before his cluttered work table and put his head in his hands to collect himself.

He was still reeling weeks after what transpired. Everyone else seemed to have been caught up in the festivities and frivolous things, but his mind burned at the mere thought of such _monsters_ still roaming the earth… 

He let out a pained grunt as a shot of pain through his head. 

It was frustrating to keep himself composed for so long only to slip because of such atrocities. Those in his class had elected to keep quiet on what they saw. No one spoke to him of it, but the fear and concern were evident in their faces if the topic ever strayed too close. He shamefully regretted letting himself slip up in front of the Professor, but his confession to the man was a long time coming. 

He was here for revenge, after all. 

The pain of his sins still plagued him, however. Headaches, wandering thoughts, restless nights, _apparitions_ … they were erratic in their appearances when they were once things he could control. He hated the loss of control. 

Through some miracle, though, word of his “outburst” hadn’t breached the minds of anyone else. He was thankful for that, especially after showing himself in such a state to the one who had every right to tell of what happened.

He painfully rubbed at his eyes. The horror of coming to his senses and seeing the destruction he left in his wake was only matched by the horror on Marianne’s face at the sight of him. He apologized to her, or he tried to, at least. He was a bundle of jumbled nerves and unimaginable guilt. The fear of losing such a close confidant struck him in a way he hadn’t imagined. 

He should be eternally grateful, then, that she merely accepted his apologies and gave him a word of reassurance.

_“I understand, Dimitri.”_

“I didn’t expect the rumors to be true.”

A dry scathing voice should have alarmed Dimitri, but he knew the tone all too well.

“Rumors, Felix?”

His childhood friend walked around to be in front of him. He looked down upon Dimitri with some form of disgust. “They say a monster has been haunting the library for the past few days,” Felix explained. “It seems they were right after all.”

_I don’t have the patience for this._

“And now that you’ve found them to be true, what do you plan to do? Have you come to slay me or bore me?”

That garnered an aggressive look from Felix. He angrily pulled a chair and sat across Dimitri, a burning glare trained on him. Dimitri met him with his own.

"I've come to make sure you don't destroy anything important."

"Hmph. Do as you wish."

He let him be, returning to the records that needed to be scoured. Through the silence, Dimitri watched Felix’s eyes move from him to the myriad of tomes and books scattered across the table. The swordsman hissed in annoyance.

“How long are you going to continue this farce?”

He slammed the book shut. “I’m closer than you think,” Dimitri replied through gritted teeth. Felix let out a mocking laugh.

“I’m not talking about this garbage,” Felix said pointing to the books. 

"Then what are you speaking of? No need to wax poetic."

Felix's glare grew colder. “I’m talking about that,” he said, emphatically gesturing at Dimitri’s face.

“The Prince couldn't help but bare his teeth in anger. "What are you on about?”

“Are you playing the fool? We all saw what happened at Remire. We know what’s there. Drop the act and get on with your life.”

Dimitri had it with formalities. He shot out of his seat and leaned closer, standing over Felix with his eyes shooting right through the Fraldarius heir. The boy responded in kind.

"Is this what it's come to, Felix? Is this the only thing you ever have to say to me?"

"It's the only thing you need to hear."

Dimitri’s pounding fist shook the wooden table and cracked the surface. “At every turn, you wish to coax some sort of demon out of me, and for what?!” 

“I’m just trying to do what needs to be done,” the raven-haired boy said with barely restrained fury.

“What _are_ you trying to do, Felix? Berate me? Enrage me so you can kill me?”

“I’m trying to get you to **_move on_** with your life!”

Dimitri shrank back ever so slightly, Felix’s exclamation striking some ugly truth within him.

“Alright, that’s enough!”

Dimitri and Felix didn’t break their gazes until two bodies came and pushed them from each other. The voice of Sylvain dragging him away groaned.

“I told you it was a bad idea, Ingrid! Seriously, let Felix of all people try and reason with someone? Are you mad?”

Felix was being pulled away by Ingrid, the boy shaking out of her grasp when the distance was enough. The girl shrugged.

Dimitri and Felix couldn't separate their looks from one another. Not willingly. Ingrid and Sylvain took it upon themselves to block one from the other's view. It took a moment for the intensity of the situation to wear off. Sylvain and Ingrid kept the two boys at bay as their emotions thinned and quieted down.

Dimitri took in a deep breath. “What are you two doing here?”

Sylvain looked to Ingrid who shot him a look back. Sylvain sighed.

“Dedue told the three of us that you’ve been sneaking out to come to the library of all places. I thought it was bogus because you never really struck me as someone clamoring to read, Your Highness.”

“ _Sylvain._ ”

“Uh, sorry. Anyway, Dedue thought we’d be better at reasoning with you since you’ve been blowing him off the past few times.”

Dimitri shook his head. He should have known Dedue was somehow responsible. “Was sending in Felix alone somehow part of your plan?” 

“Let it be known that I suggested we all go in _together,_ ” Sylvain stressed. “Isn’t that right, Ingrid?”

The pegasus rider rolled her eyes, but her face carried some regret as she faced the Prince. “I wanted to do the same thing, Your Highness, but Felix insisted that he knew how to get through to you. I figured he knew what he was talking about.” She turned to Felix with a perturbed look on her face. “Is this how you envisioned this going, Felix?”

The boy idly tapped his foot and looked away. “Basically.”

Ingrid and Sylvain let out exasperated sighs.

Seeing that their friends no longer seemed to be at each others' throats, the two peacemakers and reluctantly went to clean up the mess of books that fell to the floor. Sylvain grabbed several into his hands and skimmed through their contents.

“Ledgers, donation records, financial histories… I didn’t take you for an accountant, Your Highness.”

Dimitri grabbed the books and placed them back into the shelves without a word.

With everything put away, the four childhood friends sat at the table, Ingrid finally had the time to growl. She slammed the palm of her hands on the tabletop. 

"What is with you, Felix? I trust you for this one moment, and you come in here as if you had a sword at the ready! Is fighting the only thing that's bouncing around in that dense skull of yours?!"

"The boar neede-"

"Shut it!" Ingrid snapped at him, and the boy was quiet. She directed her ire elsewhere. "And Your Highness! What are you even doing sneaking away night after night like this? You've looked haggard for months on end and have only gotten worse! Do you honestly think this is helping?!"

Ingrid's sharp rebukes were that of a mother disciplining her children, and the effects it had were the same. The two boys, trained soldiers and future leaders, were left paralyzed with the consequences of their actions slapped across their faces.

Dimitri and Felix refused to meet each other’s eyes, now, their actions finally bringing both of them some modicum of shame. They didn't speak for fear of invoking more of their friend's wrath.

Ingrid huffed angrily, but sat herself in her chair. “Despite how this all turned out,” she began carefully. “We all did come here for the same reason.”

“And what would that be?” Dimitri asked.

“We came to help you, you idiot,” Felix said.

Dimitri felt his brow raise in surprise. “You have an odd way of helping others, then,” the Prince muttered. Felix gave him a non-threatening scowl. A hint of a smile reached Dimitri’s lips at the feeling of some normalcy.

“Look, Your Highness, you’ve been off for… quite a while, actually,” Sylvain said. “We don’t want to bother you, but we sure as hell aren’t going to do nothing.”

The Prince grimaced. 

“Maybe we don’t know the… the extent of what’s been bothering you,” Ingrid said. “But it’s our duty to help you through them. Not just because of your status but because we’re friends. Right… Dimitri?”

He took in her words and the worried looks on his friends’ faces. Even Felix showed some semblance of remorse. He had forgotten that he wasn’t the only one affected that day. 

“You’re right, Ingrid. Forgive me for worrying you all. I’ll… try to consider your feelings next time.”

Two of them nodded happily. Dimitri saw the other one give him a look saying that they were not convinced.

“That’s the spirit, Your Highness." Sylvain let out a relieved breath and put a hand on the Prince's shoulder. "Look, I'm not going to bullshit us and say we should all be okay with... everything that's happened. But we've held fast before the world went mad. What are we if we don't hold fast now? Friends stick together. Even this sorry bunch.” Sylvain’s characteristic charm combined with sentiment wise beyond his years reminded Dimitri that his troublemaker of a friend was his friend for a reason. 

Dimitri gave him a kind look. "Thank you, Sylvain... You're friendship is greatly appreciated."

Like a switch being flipped, Sylvain leaned back and kicked his feet up on the table with an easy smile on his face.

"Don't mention it," he simply said. "We’ve got a lot to look forward to next week, anyway. Do you really have time to be diving into all these numbers and fighting and getting hung up on all this crap?”

There was a beat of silence.

“Er. Next week?”

Sylvain looked at them all with an incredulous stare.

“Are you guys serious?! The ball! It’s next week!”

Dimitri deflated. “Oh.”

“What do you mean _‘oh?’_ ”

“Ah, I’m sorry Sylvain,” Dimitri said bashfully. “I just haven’t given the ball any thought.”

“Are you serious?”

Ingrid nodded in agreement. “Mercedes has been trying to put makeup on me for the past week. I’m not too excited about the whole affair either.”

“Are you- Felix! Come on, you’re excited, right?”

“...”

Sylvain huffed. “You are all _no fun._ ”

“Why are you even excited?” Felix asked. “It’s not like you have anything to look forward to.”

“Au contraire, my good friend. I have several ladies lining up to dance with me as we speak.”

Dimitri frowned. “Did you force them?”

“Force- who do you think I am?!” Sylvain shook his head. “Gods, I should’ve known you three would’ve been like this. It's all _training_ and _studying_ and _being responsible_ with you all. Seriously, dancing and good times, what’s so bad about that?”

“Dancing is wasted footwork,” Felix replied.

“You’re just saying that because no one wants to dance with you,” Sylvain jeered. “Come on, you guys don’t want to dance with anyone? Anybody at all?”

Dimitri gave the question some thought. Did he have someone in mind?

“Fine then,” Sylvain declared at his friends’ silence. “I can't believe you're all this hopeless. Looks like big brother Sylvain will have to save you all this time around."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"Simple!" Sylvain stood and stretched an arm out in a grandiose manner. "I’ll dance with you sorry lot! Would you spare me a dance, Felix?

“Fuck off.”

“Alright then. Spare me a dance, Ingrid?”

The girl looked away indignantly. “When I’m six feet under, sure.”

“Then I’ll be sure to dig us a suitable dancing floor, my lady.”

Dimitri shook his head at his friends’ antics but found himself wishing for nothing more. The four of them had been through so much. Surely he could persevere with their presence.

“It looks like you’re all enjoying yourselves.”

The deadpan voice had the four friends standing at attention. Professor Byleth watched them from the entrance looking none too pleased.

“You all know student curfew is 9:45 p.m.?”

“Oh, Professor, hey,” the red-head started. “We were having so much fun I guess we, uh, lost track of the time. What time is it now?”

“Midnight.”

“Ah.”

  
  
  


The Professor continued. “I got wind of a noise complaint. I was told some students were yelling at each other in the dead of night when they _should_ be resting. Care to explain why those students happen to be mine?”

They all stood uncomfortably under their teacher’s stern gaze. Dimitri bowed.

“Forgive them, Professor. I was here alone for the longest time. The others had nothing to do with it.”

“So you were yelling at yourself?”

“Uh… well…”

Felix sighed irritatedly. “I was speaking with the boar. I found him here all alone and tried to talk some sense into him. We may have gotten into a bit of a _dispute_.” Felix looked at Dimitri, the fires of their earlier conversation not lost between them.

“And you two?” the Professor asked, his question directed towards the silent participators. 

“We came with Felix,” Ingrid explained. 

“We broke them up and calmed them down. Everything’s peachy now. Promise.”

Byleth said nothing as he continued to give each of them a disappointed gaze while he pondered proper punishment.

“Sylvain. Ingrid.” The two stood at the ready. The Professor sighed and gestured towards the door. “Go to your rooms. Not another word, please.”

The four exchanged glances. Sylvain and Ingrid spared them pitying looks before they left as ordered.

The Professor walked to the two main offenders. Dimitri had never spent much time under the man’s ire, and now, he struggled to brace himself.

“I take it that whatever _talk_ you two had has been settled and dealt with?”

Dimitri looked to Felix who appeared uncomfortable under such disciplinary action. Even so, the crass boy spoke up while maintaining a cold look with the Prince.

“Everything’s been settled, Professor.”

The man gave them another look over before pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Both of you are spending _all_ of your free time tomorrow in the Training Grounds with me, no breaks. If you two want to fight, then at least make it productive.” There was a slight pause. The Professor looked off at one corner of the room. “ _Yes_ , that’s it.” 

Their teacher sighed. “You two have been tolerable the entire year, so consider yourselves grateful that I won’t deal out anything severe.”

The two boys bowed. “Thank you, Professor.”

"Honestly, Sylvain had some merit. You all need to relax a little..." The man shook his head again, exasperated. “We’ve got several new transfers coming into this class and the last thing I want them to be met with is some spat between the House leader and one of our top students. Please spare me the troubles of the rumor mill. ”

Dimitri took responsibility for answering for both of them. “Yes, Professor. Forgive us for causing you trouble.”

“Mm. Apologize after I put you through tomorrow’s drills. Now come on.”

With a flip of the man’s cape, the Professor went to exit. Felix gave Dimitri one last, hard look before following suit.

Dimitri heaved a heavy sigh.

_“I’m trying to get you to move on with your life!”_

Felix’s words caused another pang to ring in his ears. 

“Move on…” he mused to himself. He gave the notion some thought as he followed after the Professor. He pondered the implication of such a thing with the eyes of unwanted specters on his back. 

  
  


\----

**_9:15 p.m. on the 25th day of the Ethereal Moon, 1180_ **

Marianne didn’t know what she expected.

Hilda had all but begged her to join everyone at the Ball, and she obliged reluctantly. She figured that she would be able to hide away in a corner and that she did. Hilda had lost sight of her when she dragged Claude away for a dance leaving Marianne to her own devices.

The festivities were charming to watch from afar, at least. Seeing her classmates amble around from partner to partner had its own fun that didn’t require participating herself. She could see Sylvain go from girl to girl like clockwork. Lorenz attempted to do the same less successfully. Dorothea had men wrapped around her finger. She watched Annette forcefully drag an uncooperative Felix to the floor with several others laughing at the sight. The Professor seemed dead on his feet as he was passed around from student to student as the man of the hour. All of it was an amusing sight.

Her eyes continued to roam absentmindedly when they landed on him. He looked like the princes described in fairy tales, charming and debonair as he danced gracefully with his partner.

 _It must be nice,_ she thought to herself.

Feeling an uncomfortable feeling in her gut forming, Marianne took that as a sign to take her leave. No one was watching, anyway. 

She had somewhere she wanted to be.

  
  
  


The Goddess Tower was quiet and empty, devoid of other students. She seemed to have come at a perfect time. The ambiance was suitable. She took some steps if only to hear her footsteps to help ground her as she looked around. Some fluttering wings caught her attention, and she searched for its source. A male pigeon had settled upon one of the outcroppings. She reached a hand out.

“Hello there,” Marianne called out. “Won’t you keep me company?”

The bird took a few cursory glances. It eventually hopped down and floated down on her outstretched hand. She giggled.

She played with the bird for a few moments, running a finger along with the bird’s head as it gave off delighted chirps.

“Thank you for your patience,” she said. “I’ll be done with my prayer in a moment…”

The legend of the Tower may be silly tales, but she’d take anything. Sure, the legend called for a woman _and_ a man, but this pigeon would do.

Hopefully.

_Dear Goddess, I beg of thee…_

“Is someone there?”

She turned around, and her heart skipped a beat. Dimitri entered the room, and his eyes sparkled in recognition at seeing her.

“Marianne? 

The pigeon retreated to its previous spot as the Prince moved closer. She was at a loss for words at the moment. The two hadn’t spoken much since Remire Village. She was left staring at him, unable to form coherent thoughts. 

“Erm… It’s quiet here, isn’t it?” The boy looked around the vacated space.

“Oh. Yes… it is.”

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” he said. “I just needed… a breather. Though maybe I picked the wrong spot considering the tales associated with this place.”

“You know of the legend too?” she asked. The Prince nodded.

“They say that wishes made in this tower will come true,” he recited. He gave a mirthless laugh. “I wonder who came up with such a silly notion.”

She frowned. “You don’t believe it?”

Dimitri looked away, a somber smile on his face. “Legends are legends, nothing more. I doubt there are many who really believe that wishes can be granted. The Goddess just watches over us from above... That is all… or at least, that’s what I think I believe.”

“What do you mean?” she dared to say. His beliefs of the Goddess were new to her, though not unexpected. He always told her he struggled with prayer.

“The Goddess watches over us, and that’s it,” he said. “But… something in me has started to hope otherwise.” He gave her a soft smile. “If the Goddess has such followers such as yourself… Well, I hope she does more than just watch. For people like you, at the very least.”

She bit her lip at his supposed praise. “I don’t believe I’m deserving of such a thing…” she confessed. 

“Agree to disagree,” he simply said with his smile. He tilted his head. “Why are you here, if I may ask?”

“Oh…” She was embarrassed to say after Dimitri dismissed the legend. “I was here to pray. To make a wish, specifically.”

“Ah…” Marianne watched the emotions spread across his face from understanding to shame. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to chastise you.”

“It’s fine… my bird friend seems to have gotten impatient and flew away. I suppose there’s no need to partake in silly legends anymore.”

“Hm? Why not?”

“Um… they say if a man and a woman pray here, on this night, their wish will come true.”

“And… the bird?”

“It's a pigeon. A… male pigeon. At least, I think so. I thought he might count as a man.” Her face flushed as she realized how ridiculous she sounded. 

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to interrupt your prayer,” the boy said. 

“No, it's fine,” she assured him. “The Goddess probably wouldn't accept a male pigeon anyway.”

She stood there, feeling both dejected and humiliated. How crazy must she appear to him right now-

“I’ll pray with you.”

Her head snapped up.

“Huh?”

“It’s a man and a woman, correct? There’s no harm in wishing on this night.”

“I- are you sure?”

He nodded. “Of course. I’d be happy to do so with you.”

Elation filled her uncharacteristically, but she had been waiting for this moment. “Thank you! If you have a wish for the future, let’s pray for it, okay?”

“And your wish?”

She paused. 

Her wish… she had plenty in mind. Many from the beginning of the year, none of them too pleasant. She had only come to wish for general pleasures for the world. Nothing for herself. 

“Who, me? Oh, nothing in particular,” she replied. “Let's pray for your wish. There must be something you want. Well?” 

“A wish of my own…” The Prince pondered for a moment, a hand to his chin. “I suppose my wish… is for a world in which no one would ever be unjustly taken from us. Or… something along those lines. ”

A wish born from his own experiences most likely. A wish where no one would suffer such a thing.

“That’s… a good wish.” 

“It’s not the only one,” he continued. “I’ll make another for the both of us. How about that toast we made after the Battle of the Eagle and Lion?”

Her mind drifts back to clinking glasses under the moon between the two of them.

_To our futures._

“I think that would suffice,” she whispered. “Very well. Let us pray.”

They both knelt. She brought her hands together.

A prayer between a man and a woman where their wishes would come true… what she would give for such a thing to happen. With her unlikely partner praying beside her, she felt the squeezing of her eyes and stress of her clasped hands.

She prayed for their futures. For something like this.

  
  


They stood up after some time. Marianne dusted her knees off and turned to the boy. 

“Dimitri? You didn’t have to humor me… but thank you… I’m glad I ran into you.”

“It’s been my pleasure.”

The two of them shuffled awkwardly, exchanging kind smiles. Now that the deed was done, Marianne realized she didn’t have a plan for whatever came afterward, and now she stood here, stealing his time.

“The ball is still going on,” she muttered. “There must be people waiting. I shouldn’t keep you any longer.”

She wanted to blitz past him to save themselves the trouble, but his hand grabbed hers, stopping her. She looked to the Prince with wide eyes. He looked bashful, his face switching between their joined hands and her own eyes. His mouth opened and closed, struggling to find words.

“Dimitri…?”

“A dance!” he blurted out suddenly. She was taken aback. The young man groaned, his free hand covering his face. After shaking off his nerves, he took another attempt. “Would you care to dance with me, Marianne?”

She could feel her heartbeat loudly within her skull. 

A dance? With me?

“Yes. A dance. Um. With you.”

Oh. She said that aloud. 

“A-are you sure?” she stuttered. Her face had taken an uncomfortable temperature, and the odd sensation she thought she had escaped had come back in full force spreading throughout her body. 

“I am. I would love to if you have the time.”

Marianne’s gaze was glued to her shoes. “ _Love to?”_ What was she supposed to say to that? She didn’t prepare for this. She didn’t dream about this, either. She dared a glance up at him to find Dimitri in a similar position: red-faced, wandering eyes, and a look of someone who had dived deep into uncharted waters. 

Their hands were still together, a sight she zeroed in on.

“Um… there’s not any music…” she said halfheartedly, one last chance to give him an out and for her to tuck this anomaly deep within the recesses of her memories.

“I don’t particularly mind,” Dimitri said slowly, gently.

Marianne took in a shaking breath. It seemed this was going to happen.

She nodded wordlessly, still refusing to look him in the eye and brought their conjoined hands up to position.

“I’m afraid I’m no good at dancing…” she told him. He chuckled in response.

“It’s no trouble. I never was an expert myself.”

Suddenly, memories of her father teaching her ballroom dancing flooded her mind in an attempt to salvage what was surely going to be a disaster.

_Feet straight, hand on the shoulder, hands raised- wait, feet straight or bent? Bent sounds painful. Straight it is. Do I start with a step left or- Oh dear his hand is on my hip._

His touch seemed to burn, though in a much more pleasant and not painful way. Still, the shock of it had her body going rigid and taut. Dimitri stopped.

“We don’t have to continue. The last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable-”

“No!” It was Dimitri’s turn to jump back a bit. She made a mewling, exasperated noise that she _desperately_ hoped he didn’t hear. “No. This is fine. I can do this.”

She forced her body to relax and felt Dimitri do the same. 

“Take your time,” he murmured. 

As she readied herself back into the starting position with hands together and her head down and grew accustomed to his hand on her side, she let out one final exhale.

“Um. We can start.”

At her behest, Dimitri lightly began to step bringing her along with him.

Their movement was… inelegant if she had to put a word to it. Her thoughts were racing a mile a second, and she still refused to lift her chin. Perhaps that was why their movement felt precarious. 

Her mind was filled with apocalyptic scenarios. She focused hard on making sure her steps were right, her posture was correct, and that she didn’t somehow bring both of them falling over onto the ground. Of course, thinking of such things only made her more tense and inflexible, but she had too much to think about at the moment. Surviving was paramount. 

Marianne unconsciously clutched Dimitri’s hand like a lifeline and felt the thump of her heartbeats rattle through them. The fact that her hand felt like it was beating twice as hard was worrying before she made a surprising discovery. 

Loosening her grip slightly, Marianne found that it wasn’t just her own heart moving at rapid speeds. She felt the same, quick pulse again and again in Dimitri. With her hand on his shoulder and too close to his neck, she realized that fast-paced beating wasn’t just her own. She wondered. 

_Is he as nervous about this as I am?_

The idea was… comforting. Seeing that her partner also seemed to be in a bind, she breathed deeply and slowly to even her body out. With every breath, her mind cleared a bit more, and her senses amplified now that she was no longer distracted. 

It was colder than normal, but her heated face had tricked her. The glove on his hand was surprisingly smooth and soft. And even though their footsteps were the only sounds filling the Tower, the pounding of their hearts was deafening. 

In a moment of boldness, she looked up at him, finally. 

He was watching her, his face peering at her worriedly, but now that she was looking back, relief spread through his face. His eyes softened and a small smile greeted her. 

_This… is fine._

The nervous energy within Marianne began to dissipate slowly through her as she looked eye-to-eye to Dimitri. 

There was some makeup on his face, something unsurprising given the nature of the event. Hints of dark shadows under his eyes peeked out that refused to be masked, but she wasn’t focused on them. 

His face was smooth for a self-proclaimed warrior. His hair freely swung back and forth with their movements. His smile was brightening, a heavenly thing now that she observed it up close. 

Despite all of these features, she was drawn to his eyes. Strikingly blue, half-lidded, and focused entirely on her. There were no lurking shadows under the surface at the moment. No beast was hidden and ready to pounce. Just her and the Prince.

Now that her eyes were up, she couldn’t look away.

Their jerky movement began smoothening out, little kinks in their steps disappearing. By the time they started flowing through the motions in harmony, her mind was far from worrying about anything. 

They moved together, gracefully and distinguished. The moment seemed like a bubble in time captured in one of her stories that her mother would read to her before bed. 

A moonlit dance with a dashing, young Prince. They were unbearably close together. 

She found herself unable to pull away. 

Their movement slowed and their steps came to an end. Still, they remained in position as if they hadn’t stopped. She looked up at him in her dreamlike state waiting for him to tell her to stop. 

“We should head back soon,” he finally said, wistfully.

“We should,” she replied with a whisper. 

If the moment were to end, she would be fine with it stopping right here. Yet, despite their agreement, neither made any indication that they were going to separate at this point nor did they show any intention of looking away. Her heart was beating again, her ears burning up at the feeling. 

Dimitri's voice was barely audible to her. “It’s rude of me to keep you all to myself.”

His wording made her weak, and the feeling that he gave her betrayed what his mouth was saying. 

“I don’t think I mind,” she said to him.

Her admission seemed to spur him to action. With a swift movement, he moved her hand between them. He lowered himself and kissed the top of her hand. The action sent a plethora of unknown feelings and sensations shooting through her. His lips were warm, and the heat of them left a lingering feeling that had her chest ready to burst. 

She was silent in watching him move back to position. Everything about him radiated a warmth that enveloped her. 

“Shall we continue?”

Overflowing with emotion, she smiled.

With nothing left to be said, Marianne took him and led the first few steps as they danced together in the Tower. 

Dimitri had told her that the Goddess only watches, that wishes being realized were silly things. But as the two drifted together as one, she couldn’t help but believe that something had come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive for my updates being slower than snails in cement.


	14. Guardian Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drifting in different directions

**_7:50 a.m. on the 5th day of the Guardian Moon, 1180_ **

Of all the months Marianne has spent at the Monastery, she has never seen the place as somber then it is now. The lively chatter and amicable feeling that resonated through the halls she walked through were absent. Knights that filled the rooms and greeted the students and faculty were out in the fields, their missing presence greatly hollowing out what was normally a full den of activity. Such a thing should be expected when the Captain of the Knights is assassinated.

Her expression darkened, and she forced her legs to move more quickly in response.

She was there when it happened. Demonic beasts were plentiful, and she did her duty in dispatching them. She thought they had won before they found their Professor weeping with a dead man in his arms.

It shook her to her core to see such a sight. The man of few emotions had been reduced to tears, and he had secluded himself from others for days now. She knew the pain all too well. The implications were harrowing to her. If a man as strong as him could be broken by this world, how could she ever hope to rise above it?

It was a question for another time. Her time for thinking was over now as she stood before the doors to her destination.

Marianne hasn’t felt anxiety for entering a classroom quite like this since the beginning of the year when she stood before the Golden Deer room. This door was quite literally the same, but the blue banners and overall circumstances had her glued to her spot.

“Getting cold feet?”

Claude sauntered up to her with a smile on his face that was surprisingly strained. He stopped beside her and sighed. “Not exactly the warm and sunny feeling you should be getting on your first day, huh? Talk about tough luck.”

She nodded in agreement. 

All the work was done, even though it was delayed. After weeks of internal debate, her choice was made, and it was time for her to live with the consequences of it. As of today, she was officially a member of the Blue Lion house. 

She felt everything but excited.

“Those kids have been wallowing in their sadness more than the others,” Claude spoke. “Figures, I guess.”

Marianne felt her lips purse at the thought. Was it right for her to intrude now of all times? Each house had bonded over the year. Many would consider their classmates a second family. Was it appropriate for her to insert herself into this?

“You’re thinking too much.” She turned to see Claude smiling at her, his mild grin carrying amusement and sorrow. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a comforting rub. “Go on. Whatever you’re thinking isn’t how it really is. You’ve learned that by now, haven’t you?”

She breathed in sharply. He was right. Cursed though she may be, she was more than what she thought of herself. 

“Thank you, Claude.”

At that, he walked back and saluted her all while flashing her a cheeky expression.

“You’ll always have a place with us, Marianne,” he said. “Show them what the Alliance is all about.”

The sounds of his steps faded away, intermingling with the chirps of the birds and the quiet winds washing over the courtyard. Feeling like the world was waiting for her, she pushed open the doors to the Blue Lion classroom.

She moved the doors gently to minimize any creaking sounds, peeking her head in slowly while her body followed.

The backs of her new housemates remained still, slouched or bent over their desks. It seemed many of them were here, save a scant few she didn’t have time to think of and the professor himself. None heard her enter as they idled away in the listless bubble that they were drowned in, devoid of any activity. Finally slipping in all the way, she took stock of them all one last time before the shutting of the door popped the stillness and set things into motion. Marianne faltered as every back quickly turned to her with varying expressions of surprise, curiosity, and annoyance at the disturbance of their peace. 

There was a beat of silence as everyone stared at her, waiting for something to follow. A feeling of anxiety caused her to shake.

“Um… hello.”

Ashe looked her over. “Marianne? Is something wrong?”

A realization dawned on her now that she was subject to this sudden scrutiny. Were they not aware that she had transferred? The waiting gazes suggested so. She couldn’t stop herself from gulping. Entering the classroom was a task in itself, but a welcoming speech to students in mourning was not at all a part of her preparations. 

“I- you see, I’m…” She reached for nonexistent words that left her floundering. “I’m… here, now.”

She winced internally, her entire being recoiling. Progress she may have made, but some habits were eager to make themselves apparent. 

Her classmates did not seem to comprehend, still silently watching her fidget in place. Marianne looked to hide her reddening face.

_Oh Goddess, take me now._

“Oh!” Annette shuffled out of her seat. The weariness on her subsided slightly with excitement taking place as she eagerly made her way to Marianne with a slight bounce in her step. “You transferred, didn’t you? That’s great!”

Annette’s infectious enthusiasm seemed to alleviate the air of malaise within the room. Her friends’ faces lifted happily at the news and welcomingly eased her nerves. 

Ashe and Annette flittered around her, the gray-haired boy’s smile breaking through his tired visage.

“Oh, we’re so glad you followed through,” he told her. “We’ve been waiting for you for quite some time!”

“‘Waiting?’” she repeated back quizzically.

“Yeah, of course we’ve been waiting,” Sylvain called out. “It was only a matter of time. Honestly, you were taking so long that I was worried the seat I had ready for you would get cold.” She looked to see him jokingly pat the chair next to himself. At least, she hoped it was a joke.

“Don’t mind him. Though Sylvain did have a point. It’s so good to finally have you,” Ingrid came to her and gave her a quick embrace. 

“I wasn’t aware,” Marianne muttered. “I hope you all will accept me.”

She heard Mercedes giggle in her motherly way. “There’s no need for that dear. You’ve been a part of us for quite some time now.”

“But now that it’s official, we can have so much more fun together!” Annette chirped. “We should do something to celebrate! Mercie, is it time to bake?”

“Uh, that won’t be necess-”

“That’s a great idea, Annie. Will you help us, Flayn?”

The green-haired girl nodded enthusiastically, ignoring Marianne shaking her head. “Oh, that’d be wonderful! It would be such fun to welcome another like how you all welcomed me!”

“We could have one of our secret Blue Lions, girls-only tea party, too,” Ingrid whispered, leaning in. Sylvain’s ears perked up regardless.

“Hold up. ‘Secret?’ ‘ _Girls only?’”_

They all broke off in conversation much to her embarrassment. A celebration was the last thing she wanted, but with all of them looking happier than she had seen in quite some time, she decided to let things be for their sake.

In the midst of it all, another presence stalked up near her. Felix stood there, staring right into her with a contemplative look. She heard him sigh under his breath.

“So you’ve made your decision,” he said with a drop of resignation. The way he talked to her was less caustic than what she expected of him. 

“I have,” she responded easily.

“And do you think you made the right choice?”

She felt it was less a genuine question and more of a challenge, one last push against her to reaffirm her ideals.

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “But the choice was mine. That’s what matters to me.”

Felix took in her answer with an unchanging expression. Something about him always made her bolder, but it didn’t stop the churning nervousness in her stomach at him seemingly evaluating her at every turn. 

Fortunately, a shrug of his shoulders signaled his acceptance of her answer. With an uninterested voice, he walked away with a message.

“Just don’t be irritating like the others.”

Was that supposed to be his symbol of approval of her? She could never tell what his intentions were, but he didn’t cut her down so she chalked it up as a success.

With most of the others calming down and engaging in simple pleasantries with her, the doors to the room opened again. Dedue entered and positioned himself in front of the door to keep it open. His eyes fell to her expectantly. 

“Marianne? What’s going on?”

“She transferred!” Annette answered eagerly for her. “She’s officially a part of our class now!”

At that, Dedue smiled and warmly regarded her. “I see. That is most certainly some good news. We are glad to have you with us, Marianne.”

She bowed in thanks, grateful that he took her in a much more reserved manner than the others.

Seeing that the boy was keeping the door open, her mind quickly fit in the pieces of the missing students she felt earlier before. With Dedue arriving, she found that only one was left, the final person entering on cue. Marianne tried not to feel like the place around her came to a halt as she watched Dimitri walk in, but her sharp intake of breath set it off for her. 

The exact nature of their “acquaintanceship” had been unfortunately turbulent since that night. That night that slips and stays and exits her mind like some elusive memory that refuses to be confirmed as real or fiction, a scenario dreamt up from deep within her subconscious. But she remembers that night in the Goddess Tower, remembers how the air felt, recalls the feeling of the fit of his hand with hers, and how they danced deep into the night alone. She did not forget the way they moved and the way his face looked close to hers, the pervasive image sneaking up on her as a persistent, ephemeral flash. It was real despite how she tried to spin it, nor could it be explained away as “time spent alone in her room” which was what she told Hilda and anyone else. It was real, and thus so were all the new, enlightening, and terrifying feelings that she did not deserve that kept her up at night. She thought of him that day after, and what it all meant if anything.

And then Jeralt died.

There was no more time to wonder, only time to grieve and worry. The Professor seemingly disappeared and Dimitri along with him. He was a ghost she only caught glimpses of the past few days, a momentary gleam of a blue coat being the only confirmation that he existed, that everything was indeed real. 

She looked at him now, the first solid picture of him since the battle. He shambled into the room with tired steps that tried to mask themselves as a steady gait. His back was straight, forcefully so. His face was sullen in only a way that she might have seen, and the dark circles under his eyes were growing deeper, all things that would have had her asking if he was alright had he not lifted his head and found her, his face brightening causing her to seize up. 

“Marianne has become an official member of our house, Your Highness,” Dedue said as the two looked at each other wide-eyed. Dimitri recovered his presence of mind to collect himself luckily and took a step towards her. He shuffled awkwardly in front of her, both of them unable to maintain eye contact.

“It’s… good to see you,” the prince managed to get out. His face was bashfully pensive, his mouth contorting between some form of a smile and straight face.

Unable to properly work through the unspoken feelings between them, she defaulted to whatever response seemed proper. 

“Likewise, um… Your Highness.”

The sudden formality made her shift uncomfortably with its unfamiliarity, but it seemed necessary. As an official member of the house of the Kingdom of Faerghus now, it was only natural to refer to the house leader as such.

A small chuckle from Dimitri dashed those thoughts. “Come now, Marianne. You know that’s not necessary.” He returned to that friendly nature she had grown accustomed to, the charming prince giving her a shot of familiarity. 

“I see,” she said with more confidence. “Then… is Dimitri still fine?”

“Of course. It’s the only way I’d like to hear you call me.”

Her heart thumped heavily, a swell of those terrifying emotions rearing their heads. 

With their friends preoccupied over the prospect of her joining, Dimitri ushered her to follow him.

“Come.” They made their way to the front of the room. She followed silently, admittedly for more unnamed reasons than him simply asking her to. He brought her to one of the desks in the front where he readied some books and other reading material. “I sit here in the middle. Dedue sits on the edge here.” He patted the spot to the right of his seat. He looked at her then with antsy energy flowing evidently throughout him.

“That’s um… nice?” 

She wasn’t doing much better.

They struggled to converse, unsure of what was appropriate or not, the events from the Ball to now hanging over them. Did he regret any of it? Was he upset in some way? 

Dimitri sighed heavily and shook his head. “Forgive me. Things have been unstable lately, what with the recent events.”

“It’s no trouble. I understand.”

“Mm.” He hummed absentmindedly. “Still, it truly gladdens me to see you have joined us.”

“Ah.” His positive tone had her insides churning warmly. “It’s an honor. I will do my best to not drag you all down.”

“Please, you are more than what you think you are for us. I’m- _we’re_ happy to have you.”

“Oh. Thank you, then.”

How awkward it was to tiptoe around some unmentioned event. Perhaps he did not want to speak of it or remember it. It was understandable. A noble-in-name-only with such a low status as hers stealing away the future king’s valuable time at a social event would surely be some scandal. Maybe it was in his interest to keep that night stowed deep away. 

She wondered why the thought made her chest ache so much.

“Marianne.” Dimitri had leaned in close, his voice turning into a whisper only meant for her, the proximity burning her. “I know we haven’t spoken since that night… I apologize for that.”

“It’s no fault of your own,” she whispered back mechanically, bracing herself for _something._

“I want to tell you something, but it’s… difficult to articulate what I want to say.”

“It’s okay,” she muttered. “You don’t need to say it.”

Her response garnered a questioning look from him before he cast it aside. He leaned in closer.

“I just wanted to say that… I enjoyed that night. With you.”

Her mind blanked.

 _“Oh.”_ She dared a glance at him to see if there was a mistake, yet his thin line of a mouth and earnest look suggested otherwise. Scrambling to wade through her preconceived notions and reality, she stuttered out a reply. “I- I see. I- um, I also- it was also… enjoyable. For me too.”

She got it out, incomprehensible though it may have been. Her panic and fear subsided, a hot, unknown elation taking its place. It was foreign, unpleasant, and she knew she wanted it to stay.

“Things have been growing worrisome as of late,” Dimitri said. “The future is looking more and more uncertain. I wanted to let you know that I’m… glad to have that memory. To share and reminisce on. If that makes sense.”

She nodded numbly. Her mind was in flux, too many conflicting and mortifying feelings and realizations keeping her from thinking straight. No matter what her brain was concocting, though, she knew that she agreed. 

She could look back on that night dreamily, knowing it meant something.

He stepped away from her, his missing presence explained by the addition of a new one. Dedue had taken his seat beside Dimitri, the prince following suit leaving Marianne left with the seat on the other end.

“Hmm. Seating arrangements haven’t been decided upon for you, I suppose,” Dimitri pondered. “...Maybe it’d be best if you-”

The creaking opening of the doors cut him off, the entrance of a certain man leaving all the students moving to their seats at attention. Marianne quickly settled into the seat next to Dimitri and Dedue.

Any hint of the previous atmosphere disappeared, a somber one filling the space. The students were silent as Professor Byleth walked to the front of the classroom wordlessly.

The man was certainly worse for wear. Slightly unkempt and appearing troubled for his standards. Even then, his face was as stoic as it could be for him as he looked over them all. He shut his eyes for a moment before speaking.

“I apologize for not being here to teach you all the past few days,” he said. “Recent events have kept me sidelined. I hope you all understand.”

Marianne found herself nodding along with the rest of them. The man didn’t need to apologize, the students knew, but the veneer of professionalism was necessary, a sign of respect for their professor.

“Nevertheless, my job is still the same. The Knights are out doing their best to oust these criminals. The procedure is still the same, and we’ll proceed as such. Understood?”

Affirmations rang throughout, her own joining the chorus. The sound of her voice, as quiet as it was, caught the Professor’s attention, turning to her. He looked at her with a moment of inspection.

“I see our new transfer is already here. I’m supposed to do an introduction, but I don’t think that’d be necessary. Will you be comfortable there, Marianne?”

“Oh, um…” Her last seat was far in the back where she conspicuously placed herself behind a pillar. Her current seat at the front beside the house leader was a far cry from that. “I’ll be fine.”

“Good. Well then, let’s begin.” 

Like clockwork, the routine of turning pages and writing notes began. Different rooms, different peers, but all the same work in the end. 

Dimitri nudged her, quietly asking if she would be alright. 

It was a new start during a dangerous time, a new chapter starting in the middle of the page.

She nodded back to him, knowing that there was safety among them.

* * *

**_10:06 p.m. on the 12th day of the Guardian Moon, 1180_ **

The darkness in his room was kept barely at bay by the low lit lamp burning on his desk. Dimitri sat on the edge of his bed on the cusp of the flame’s aura, shade and light vying for control over covering his body. He was listless, trapped within the confines of his mind. The visage of a two-toned mask controlled his thoughts.

_“There will be no salvation for you and your kind. Those responsible for such gruesome deeds in Duscur and Enbarr.”_

_“All so that you may acquire the strength you need. All for a purpose…”_

“Nngh!” 

A terrible bout of pain pounded his skull, one of his hands flying to clutch it while the other pounded the bedside. 

So close. He was _so_ close. They were right there. The bastards that hounded them at every turn, that hurt his friends, that marred their professor's spirit. The ones that threw his life to the flames. The same flames he would cast them into with glee and pleasure if only he could wrap his hands around their necks and toss them because he was close, so close, so very, _very_ , close-

_Thud thud_

Two short heavy knocks on his door. He kept himself from growling.

“Dedue. Enter.”

His friend had knocked the same way to his quarters every single time, increasingly so as of late. True to form, Dedue opened his door. His protector seemed to take note of the nature of his room, a messy place that was seeing less and less care as the days went by. It would not have been too concerning if Dimitri himself did not look so at ease within squalor, slouched over to shield his face and body. Dedue covertly shut the door, the guardian’s shadow joining the flickering light and darkness. The two said nothing, both of them already aware of how this song and dance would go. 

“Your Highness,” Dedue started. “You said you would rest early.”

“I did, yesterday,” Dimitri replied, rubbing his eyes,

“That was _one_ night. Your health will continue to suffer if you keep this up.”

“Please, Dedue. I do not want this right now.”

“You may not want it, but you need it.”

He snapped back. “And who gave you the right to decide?!”

Dimitri grunted as his head flared up again, an accompanying feeling of regret following. Dedue stood unwavering. 

“Dedue… forgive me.”

The boy took it in stride, the prince’s protector as loyal as ever. “You must rest, Your Highness.”

“They are out there, Dedue. I’ve seen them. Things must be done.”

“And they will. But it is currently out of our hands.”

“It matters not.” He knew he was speaking weakly, with no force or command. It was all he could muster.

“Think of the others,” his friend reasoned. “They worry for you. Doubly so if they continue to see you like this.”

“This is my life’s goal. The others are secondary in comparison.”

“Do you believe that, Your Highness?”

His question broke through the prince’s defenses causing him to think momentarily. 

He came to the Academy for one mission only, and that is all that ever mattered. His friends were dear to him, but they didn’t matter. It did not matter if they were friends since childhood. It did not matter if they served him without question. It did not matter if they held him close to their hearts as he did, if they protected him, if they _danced with and spoke to and cared for and understood him._

“Your Highness…” Dedue said. “I am your weapon. I am your shield. Your will is mine, and I have sworn myself to your cause until the day the earth reclaims me. I live to keep you safe. And I cannot stand to see you continue like this. I implore you to listen for just a little longer. Until we have achieved what you seek.”

Dimitri was no longer in the headspace to be stubborn or reluctant. Not when his friend spoke to him like that with those he cared for on his mind.

“Okay. I understand.”

Dedue nodded and bowed. “Thank you. I will see you in the morning. Please, rest well, Your Highness.”

Dimitri watched him exit silently, the door closing softly and leaving him alone once again. The glow of the lamp had lessened, the flame losing its battle against the encompassing black. 

“You’re doing so well, Dimitri. Don’t stop now.” 

A soothing voice called to him, bringing with it a chill that had Dimitri shivering. He felt eyes upon him from his desk. He knew the figure was simply a trick of the light, the volatile lighting creating something the recesses of his mind were unable to keep hidden.

“I’m here, Dimitri. I’m here for you.”

His face contorted in pain and fear, in sadness and guilt. He could feel a bead of sweat travel down his aching temple. 

“I’m trying,” Dimitri whimpered. “You know I’m trying.”

“My son… are you?” Every word the specter spoke was a nail driven into his skull. “Your resolve isn’t wavering?”

“Never. I could never forget.” His voice was shaky. The ghost sighed heavily, however, the response wringing Dimitri’s heart.

“Yet you spend so much time distracting yourself from us. Are the others in your life more important than me? Than _us?_ ”

“That’s not it! You are all in my heart, my mind, my thoughts… please.”

“I hope so,” the figure said somberly. “I would hate to see you forget us. To see you put them before us. To put _her_ in your heart before _us_.”

His head was on fire. “I know the perpetrators,” he tried to explain. “I just need to find them.”

There was a moment of repose.

“But my son…you already know where they are. Why do you hesitate?”

A glint flashed across him, demanding his attention. He turned his head painfully slow, his eyes reluctantly settling upon his desk. The dying light reflected off the blade of a dagger, the same one dropped by the foe he sought. The reflecting gleam lit up the phantom for just a blink.

“You know what must be done.” 

The flickering lamplight vanished, the disappearing embers leaving him truly alone. 

* * *

  
  


**_11:23 p.m. on the 22nd day of the Guardian Moon, 1180_ **

It had been too long since Marianne had spent time at the Stables. Her transition between houses has kept her month busy. Finally finding an ounce of spare time, she returned to the place tonight to seek her longtime friend. Dorte bucked excitedly at seeing her, a sight she found both heartwarming and nerve-wracking as she hurried to quiet him.

“It’s been a while,” she said to him. He nuzzled her aggressively, and she laughed softly. “A lot has happened. I hope they’ve been treating you well.”

Her friend made a noise that she took as confirmation.

She groomed him lovingly, a month away not enough to break her muscle memory. “I switched houses like I told you I would. It’s been an experience.”

Dorte sniffled and urged her on.

“You know the Lions. They’ve taken kindly to me, surprisingly. I’m very grateful.” It was a true sentiment. All of them showed no issue in treating her as their own. It eased the transition. “They’re excitable in their own way, though. It’s fun, somehow.”

Her month of learning had not been strictly a change in the curriculum but also in learning new things about her house’s behaviors. She has been working on learning what times they take her away for leisure time, when they train, or when they simply wanted her company. It was eye-opening to see how her peers of a different house functioned so differently from her Golden Deer. 

She hugged the horse closely and sighed. “There’s plenty more I can tell you, you know. But I think there are some things you’ve figured out on your own.” Surely Dorte’s noticed the absence of Knights, the wary air that hangs over them, the shift in demeanor of everyone that passes by. She wondered if he too was as cautious as she has been feeling lately.

With her precious few minutes left, she chose to spend it in silence flattering her neglected comrade. Or so she thought he was neglected, but in smoothing out his mane and feeling out his skin, she discovered that was not the case.

“My, has someone been grooming you besides me?” The Knights’ horses were usually taken care of, but this level of care was far beyond the bare minimum the normal caretakers gave. He was cleaned and brushed in a way that gave her the impression that the groomer had come as early as tonight. 

She hummed happily and patted Dorte. “Well, isn’t this nice? Give my thanks for whoever has been so kind to you.”

Dorte neighed in affirmation.

The night was past normal hours, and the moon shone brightly overhead. With one last goodbye, she bid farewell to her equine friend and made for her quarters, taking the route to the front gate. She dearly missed her time with him and found that the soothing effects this time had on her was sorely needed. 

Before Marianne could truly make her way out of the Stables, though, she wandered upon three other students loitering about near the stairs to the Marketplace. Their appearance surprised her especially with how late it was, but she figured she had no right to throw stones. Keeping her head down, she went to make her way past them.

“Hmph. That’s her, right?”

She froze in place at the feeling of their eyes simultaneously training on her. Feeling trouble brewing, she hoped to speed by the rest of the way through. One of them jumped in front of her, blocking her path. 

“Blue hair, looking like she wants to be anywhere but here… yeah, that’s her.”

The hostility was clear in their voices. She tried to keep herself from trembling as she looked up. The three were all males, but none of them were familiar to her. They were all built similarly, and they were all certainly Academy students. The way they attempted to tower over her, though, did not give off any vibes for camaraderie. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t mean to disturb you.” Her response was met with sneers and contemptuous sounds. 

One of them came close and mockingly examined her. “You’re that Edmund girl, aren’t you?”

“...Yes. I am.”

They laughed to themselves like they could hardly believe they had ascertained their target so easily. 

“What’s the matter?” one of the boys asked. “We’re not doing anything. We’re all housemates, aren’t we?”

Housemates? They were Blue Lions, then. Not ones she’s had the pleasure of meeting. 

“‘Housemates’ is too nice, don’t you think,” another said. “She only just joined, after all.”

“Oh yeah. An Alliance girl. Not even a _good_ one at that.”

She looked away again both in anger and fear. “Do you need anything from me?”

“Hm? We’re just having a little chat. Besides, what could you possibly give us, anyway? The Edmund House hardly has any reputation worth having.”

“Hey, I heard she’s not even a proper heir. A distant relative that the Margrave scrounged up from some dead backwater nobles.”

Those words caused a burning sensation to shoot throughout her. A very dangerous sensation. 

“Well, how lucky you are, then. I wonder how you managed that.” The boy’s voice took a low tone. “Do you think your parents know how lucky you made it?”

She shifted unbearably.

“They say _you’re_ the reason your parents are dead,” one mentioned. “Straight from your own mouth, too. You’re ‘cursed’ and all that, right?”

“Oh, you’re right. I heard something similar.” They bounced off each other in condescending tones as if they hadn’t spoken this same subject behind her back countless times. “How you managed to trick our classmates in the higher houses is beyond us.”

She shut her eyes to ward off the violent ringing emanating from within her. “I’m sorry, but I have to-”

“It truly is wild, isn’t it?” one interrupted. “Using subterfuge to attain better status in the Alliance, and now here? What else are you capable of?”

“I have no idea what you-”

“Managing to charm even His Highness and our poor professor, too. He took you in even after the tragic death of his father.”

“Of course, would such a thing even bother you? Murdering your parents for your own gain is quite heinous.”

“Please, I-”

“There are rumblings, you know. That you’re allied with the ones that are behind all this. It’d make sense considering the type of monster you are.”

She turned around and quickly attempted to escape before a hand harshly gripped her shoulder from behind.

“Now wait a second-”

She couldn’t hold it back. She growled and grabbed the boy’s hand. Her body tapped into that monstrous strength, her Crest praising her in its way, and she threw the boy against the wall with a snarl. He hit the wall flat with surprising force before landing on the floor in a daze. The two others watching recoiled, stunned. Marianne went to the boy for more who looked up at her in horror, but she caught herself. As if snapping out of a haze, she took a step back. She looked at the three who shrank under her gaze. She looked at her trembling hand that caused such violence, the power of her Crest ebbing away.

She was horrified.

The boy on the ground saw his opening and pushed himself up. “You bitch!” He scrambled to her and grabbed her by her collar with both hands, lifting her by her neck. “You’ll pay!”

She could only shut her eyes and feel warm tears stream down her cheeks. 

A monster. It’s what she deserves.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

A roaring voice shouted from behind Marianne. She was ungraciously dropped to the floor. Someone rushed to her side, an ally. She opened her eyes to find Dimitri frantically checking her over for any wounds. His worried face was fraught with panic and dread only accentuated by the gauntness of it. But as he finished looking over her, his worry disappeared, turning into a ferocious, demented thing. She caught a glimpse of his eyes, orbs filled to the brim with that raging darkness that normally hid, before he set his sights on the other three.

“What is all this? What did you do?!”

They were silent.

“Explain!”

The one that grabbed Marianne stuttered out a response. “You- Your Highness, please! She’s tricked you!”

“She’s a culprit!” another added. “Why would someone like her have reason to join us? Don’t you know her history?”

“Surely she has a hand in what’s going on! Like the assassination-”

Marianne heard a low, guttural utterance spurned by rage.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe such _rubbish_?!” His shouting had attracted the meager amount of night guards on patrol, several coming and surrounded them with their torchlight. “Harassing our own classmate? Assaulting her? Have you all lost your senses?!”

“Please, Your Highness, we had Faerghus’ best intentions at heart” they begged. Dimitri looked down upon them.

“My Kingdom has no place for despicable scum like you.” Marianne sensed the change in his voice, the way it reminded her of Remire. 

The three on their knees shook visibly. “Please, forgive us. Have mercy!”

“Mercy? Give me a reason why you should not be cast aside to the dirt like the vermin you-”

Marianne grabbed Dimitri’s arm. 

He was frightening them. He was frightening her. 

The boy that looked back to her was not of the prince but a despot. But she looked at him and saw his facade disappear, the face of an angry, worried boy greeting her back. 

There was shuffling from the watching guardsmen. Professor Byleth emerged trailed by Professor Hanneman and Manuela. The three professors quickly took stock of the scene before them, the groveling boys, the angry prince, the apparent victim clutching at his arm. Professor Byleth gave each of them a glance before turning to his fellow professors.

“These are my students. Let me handle this.”

He entered the circle of the commotion, his stern eyes regarding each of them with intensity. He looked to the House Leader.

“What happened?”

“These three,” Dimitri said pointing to the perpetrators. “I found them antagonizing Marianne.”

“Is that true?” Byleth asked of them. 

“It wasn’t like that,” one of them replied meekly. The answer angered Dimitri, but the Professor held him at bay. After a moment, he turned to her.

“Marianne. Explain to me what happened, if you may.”

Knowing that her testament would be the most important, she attempted to straighten herself. “I was walking back from the Stables. I wanted to go back to my room when I… ran into those three. They… exchanged some words with me. The altercation arose from that.”

She so dearly wanted this all to be over and done with.

“Marianne,” the Professor said. “You don’t need to protect anyone here. Please elaborate.”

She sighed, realizing this was not an easy matter to sweep away.

“They said they find me… suspicious,” she confessed. “That I’m associated with those that killed Captain Jeralt.” That garnered a stern look from the Professor. “I went to leave when one of them tried to stop me. I… retaliated.”

“And then they decided to have her by her neck,” Dimitri added with finality. 

“She threw me!” the boy said in his defense.

“You had no business laying a hand on her in the first place.”

“Quiet.”

Byleth commanded attention. He looked exasperated with his eyes closed in frustration. Turning to the three boys, he spoke. “Is what she said true? Don’t lie.”

“Yes, sir,” they replied monotonously. 

“And is it true that you accused her of coordinating the events that took place last month.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And is it true that you lay these accusations at her feet with little to no evidence? Knowing full well that the faculty and Knights are fully on top of the investigation and intelligence?”

“...”

“Well?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So when Miss Edmund says she took these accusations anyway, went to leave, and that you forcefully stopped her from doing so… that’s true, as well?”

The boys did not reply, instead resorting to defeated nods. 

Professor Byleth nodded to the other professors and raised a hand to dismiss the guards.

“Follow Professor Hanneman and Manuela,” he instructed the boys. “I’ll follow shortly. It seems a meeting with the Archbishop is necessary to carry out punishment.”

The utterance of the Archbishop had the boys grimacing, but they were led away by Hanneman and Manuela before they could protest, the two teachers forcefully lecturing them. The guards disappeared as well, leaving only Marianne, Dimitri, and the Professor. Watching until everyone had left, the Professor took his moment to bow deeply to her.

“Please have our sincerest apologies for this unfortunate event,” the man said. “I was not aware that students in our own class were keeping such crass thoughts.”

Dimitri followed under the Professor. “Those young men may be nobles of Faerghus, but they do not represent our values or what all the others truly think of you. The fault of them is ours.”

Having two people in positions of authority bowing to her made her deeply uncomfortable despite their good intentions.

“It’s okay. The situation has been handled.”

Professor Byleth nodded. “I have to sort out the rest with the Archbishop, so I have to take my leave. I’ll discuss things with you later. Dimitri, see she makes it to her room?”

The prince saluted signaling off the Professor. The man gave her one last apologetic look before taking his leave.

The adrenaline of the situation wearing off, Marianne sighed and fell tiredly, taking a seat upon the steps. Dimitri was at her side momentarily, the two not having any words to say to each other.

Monster. Cursed. What a terrible way for the world to remind her.

She wondered how those boys managed to grab ahold of information about her past. They were of some nobility. Searching out such information probably wasn’t too difficult. 

“I’m truly sorry, Marianne. I don’t know what to say.” Dimitri spoke with heavy regret, his voice slightly hoarse, no doubt from all the shouting. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she reassured him. “I should be thanking you for arriving when you did.”

“It should have been sooner,” he said bluntly. 

She had no answer for that.

“I don’t know what they told you, but their words have shown to have no value. Do not take them to heart.”

She thought to herself. Aiding in the assassination was false. 

Everything else?

“Who’s to say they were wrong?” she said defeatedly. Dimitri looked at her with concern. “They called me a monster. Cursed. That I’m the reason for my family’s doom,” she explained. “There is no lie there.”

She curled her knees to her chest. She could never run away from what she is. The world wouldn’t let her.

“Monster, hm…” She heard Dimitri mutter to himself. “What lies you try to convince yourself to believe.” 

“Excuse me?”

He laughed shamefully. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” He placed his face against his hand as he leaned against it. “Maybe the Marianne from a while ago would have no trouble believing such a thing. But the one I see now is far from a monster.”

“I don’t know how you could say such a thing…”

“I’ve known you since we’ve started here. Surely you’re aware of how far you’ve come. The way you stand, the way you speak, the way you simply are… there is no beast within you.”

Is that true? She took a moment to reflect, unable to comprehend.

Smarter, stronger, wiser… that may be her, but it didn’t change what she was at her core. It’s what she’s always believed.

She wondered, then, when she thought less and less like that.

“Four years ago… my life changed,” Dimitri said suddenly. “I saw what the world could truly be. I see the flames that took my family and my friends. I saw it all.”

The Tragedy of Duscur. He never spoke to her so intimately about it.

“On that day, I saw the reaper and what he could sow. I saw the horrors and the monsters. I see it everywhere now. ” His voice shook slightly before returning firmer. “And yet, when I look at you these past few months, it’s different. Like you’re moving past the terribleness in this world. Rising above it all. I… know a monster, Marianne. It isn’t you.”

She was clutching tightly at her heart. He spoke so sadly like he was suffering. He said she was breaking the chains that bound her while he was being constricted by those very same restraints. What happened in their lives where such a thing seemed to be taunting them?

A sob unconsciously broke past her. Her hands flew to her face where some tears had begun to drop. She began to wipe away.

“I- I’m sorry, I’m-”

Another hand cupped her cheek and gently wiped away her tears. Dimitri was behind it watching her with a heavy smile.

“It’s okay. You need not cry for me. There are better reasons to spare those tears for.”

Of course, saying such a thing only made it worse, but at his behest, she made an effort and began to clean away. After moments of diligently swiping at her eyes, her hand caught his own in the middle of wiping away a stray teardrop. She did not let go as she gently lowered their hands to her lap. 

Marianne and Dimitri stared at each other. She did so in hopes of conveying somehow that she would be there to help him, to aid him like he did for her. Dimitri’s sullen eyes grew warmer and warmer to her, his affection becoming more and more intense.

All too sudden, his grip on her hand tightened and shook, painfully so. His face became strained, and he pulled himself away from her, clutching his head. 

“Dimitri?”

Her hands were raised ready to heal, but Dimitri held her away. He stood there grasping at his temple until he was left gasping for air. 

“Dimitri? What’s… what’s wrong?”

She heard him grunt. He took another step away from her when his voice spoke struggling to stay stable and controlled.

“I… I feel like I’m lying to you,” he stammered out. 

“What?” She tried to get closer to no avail. “What do you mean?”

Despite being so close only seconds ago, the young man seemed intent on keeping his distance.

“Whatever you think of me,” he said, “keep them in check. I do not want to lie to you or harm you.”

She was puzzled, hurt even. Did she misread his good intentions? Were they nothing more than that? If so, why was he in pain?

Felix’s voice sprang to the forefront of her mind. 

_Whatever you’re seeing… it’s not real. Not anymore._

“It’s late,” the prince said coldly. “I do not wish to keep you up all night.”

He had stopped breathing heavily, stopped holding his head. He was stoic, rigid, painfully so. He gave her a look devoid of any emotion before turning away.

“Dimitri…?” His attitude had shifted wildly again. This must be related to his decreasing health, his decline in stature, she thought. Surely there must be some way she could help.

“Let’s go. There is no time to dawdle.”

She watched his back grow farther away from her.

She thought, fleetingly, if there was something there left to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For real though, who were those jerks in game accusing Marianne of assassination, how come the game didn't let me throw hands with them


	15. Pegasus Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is changed.

**_11:22 a.m. on the 8th day of the Pegasus Moon, 1180_ **

To say the energy in the Monastery was fervent would be an understatement. Ever since their return from the mythical event of the Sealed Forest, gossip and chatter filled every room, with guards, professors, and students theorizing and speculating. Marianne sat quietly among one such group of students congregated under the shade of trees in the courtyard, silently taking in the conversation. It was a mishmash of Black Eagles and Golden Deer that just happened to convene. 

“Seriously, you take one look at him and you’d think he was related to Lady Rhea!” Caspar noted excitedly. “Actually, you think that might be a thing?”

Linhardt lazily yawned as he scribbled into his notebook. “You’re shouting again, Caspar. And I find your proposition woefully unlikely.”

“I’m just saying there’s a possibility, don’t you think?”

“If the Archbishop had unknown blood relatives running about, I’m sure the world would have taken notice of such a possible scandal,” Lysithea interjected. Two against one, the intellectual duo had taken the wind out of Caspar’s sails as he huffed disappointedly. “Still, whatever happened to Professor Byleth certainly has the Archbishop's attention.”

“Well, yeah, who wouldn’t?” Raphael asked. “The man says he was given sacred power from the Goddess herself! That’s attention-grabbing, wouldn’t you say?”

Marianne heard someone hum to themselves, her head turning to see Ignatz daydreaming delightedly. “The Goddess herself,” he mused. “How beautiful the sight must have been.”

“How beautiful and how convenient.” Claude twirled an arrow in his hand appearing uninterested in the conversation at hand, yet Marianne knew the boy’s mind was just as active as everyone else’s. “Saved in the nick of time from the literal void by everyone’s favorite Goddess. A very gallant story.”

Ferdinand raised a brow, the noble unamused by trickster’s tone. “You seem to be insinuating something, Claude. Does the Goddess’ intervention seem so foreign to you?”

“Oh, not at all, your royalness. It’s just very peculiar, that’s all, like we’re not getting the whole picture. And now Teach and his class are partaking in some holy ritual at the Tomb?” His eyes narrowed as he brought the arrowhead close to his face. “Hard to believe something like this would be happening during our lifetimes wouldn't you say?”

The group collectively chewed on Claude’s question. Possible history-altering events would feel more… defined, maybe, but who were they to know such things? 

“A ritual at the Holy Tomb sounds so breathtaking, though,” Ignatz said. “And if everything goes how it should, it would certainly answer all the mystery surrounding the Professor, yes?”

Claude nodded. “I suppose. These divine rites do have me on the edge of my seat. What about you Ferdinand? What does her majesty think of all this?”

“It’s hard to say,” he replied with a sigh. “Edelgard has been much busier as of late. She has been constantly moving in and out of the Monastery so I’ve not the chance to ask, though I’m sure she’s just as curious as everyone else.” Marianne didn’t miss the flicker of suspicion racing across Claude’s face for the split moment it appeared, but she didn’t have much time to think about it as Ferdinand continued speaking. “Though if it’s answers and opinions we should be asking for, wouldn’t you think it’d be wise to ask someone who was there with the Professor when everything happened?”

Predictably, all eyes turned to her. She flinched but resigned herself all the same.

“Oh yeah! You’re with the Blue Lions, now, aren’t you, Marianne?” Caspar leaned towards her with renewed vigor. “So you were there when everything went down, huh?”

“I was…” she answered jadedly. To everyone else, it was a day clouded in mystery. For her and the others, it was another instance of surviving life and death, a fact that had her grimly exhausted. 

Linhardt pulled the fiery boy back while flashing her an apologetic look. Lysithea had called for attention then. 

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” the young girl assured her. Marianne shook her head, despite the opportunity given to her.

“It’s fine. You all seem to have gathered the major bits and pieces already. I might as well make sure they are accurate.” 

Her answer spurned some surprised looks.

“So the Professor being… banished by the enemy and coming back… that stuff is true?” Raphael asked bluntly the question on everyone’s minds. 

“It is. They lured him and trapped him. We could only stand by and watch as they simply made him… vanish.” She recalled the horrifying event vividly, the terror and helplessness they all felt as they watched the one man that guided them as their rock disappear into oblivion. How even after everything they had done to improve, she… they could do nothing.

“How did he return, if that was the case?” Ferdinand asked.

She frowned as she retold what she remembered. “At first, we refused to believe he was gone. Foolish, maybe, after what we had seen. But then the sky split open. As if the Sword of the Creator cut through the air itself. And then the Professor emerged looking like how we see him now.”

Her version of the spectacle was mild to what she had felt at that moment. When it seemed that the man was truly gone, the fabric of the world itself was torn asunder. She remembered thinking it was a miracle when the man returned. She remembered initially gazing at the man and thinking she was looking at the Goddess herself, that she was real, that she was there for them, for _her_.

A few moments of silence passed before Claude broke it. “Huh. Well, when you put it like that, it sure does sound like some divine intervention.”

“No matter the case, I’m glad that you and everyone else were able to come back safely,” Ignatz said to the nods of the others. “If such a thing happened, I’m not surprised the Archbishop is calling for a special ceremony to take place. I would love to see it myself.”

“As interesting as it sounds, I think I’m glad to be able to sit it out,” Linhardt added. “Especially with your class involved and all.” Marianne and the others shot him curious glances. “What? The Professor and the Blue Lions have been a magnet for trouble since the year started. Who knows what could happen down there? All I know is that I’m too tired to put up with whatever it is.”

The thought of danger at the Holy Tomb hadn’t occurred to her, but Linhardt’s comment about the Blue Lions being a lightning rod for conflict rang depressingly true. 

“Don’t listen to him, Marianne,” Claude swooped in. “I’m sure it’ll be all peachy. Besides, outside forces wouldn’t be the thing I’d be looking out for.” The boy uttered the last part to the side, yet audible enough to reach everyone’s ears. To her confusion, the others in the group seemed to share in Claude’s ominous statement.

“What do you mean?” she asked them. “What’s wrong?”

The others nervously looked at each other as if unsure of how to proceed. 

“It’s just… some of you guys in the Blue Lions have been through a lot,” Caspar managed to say. “Maybe it’s all a bit too…hard? Stressful? You know…”

Marianne looked back at them in bewilderment. Ferdinand rolled his eyes at the tiptoeing taking place. 

“Everyone’s worried that matters at the head of operations are not well. Surely you’ve noticed Prince Dimitri’s dip in demeanor lately?”

So that’s what this was about. The mention of the prince had her biting her lip and looking away. 

“Yeah, usually the prince is a steady guy, but he’s been a bit… off,” Raphael noted. 

Linhardt hummed in agreement. “‘Off’ is an understatement. The more I see him muttering to himself, the more I begin to think he’s speaking to an actual person.”

“I’m surprised the Prince’s behavior hasn’t been addressed, in all honesty,” the Aegir heir said. “A future leader such as himself does not have the luxury to let himself waver or else he risks failing all his comrades. I hope he hasn’t done anything to endanger you and the others, Marianne.”

“Of course not,” she replied with restrained vehemence. Marianne knew Dimitri had their lives as a priority to him. He told her as much, anyway. 

But the nagging worry in her heart was growing, the feeling that whatever Dimitri was would break or disappear with every bloodlusted crack that seemed to manifest on the prince’s visage. She couldn’t ignore it if the others had noticed too. Marianne tried to focus on the prince that befriended her, that danced with her, that was better in all aspects, but the same boy had already bared his fangs in a berserker’s rage on numerous occasions.

She felt that the separation between the prince she knew and the beast she’s seen were not merely two separate identities, but converging aspects of one individual she feared to see.

_I feel like I’m lying to you,_ he had told her that night, the last extended conversation they had shared before he had seemingly begun to avoid her. The conflicted despair in his voice had stayed with her since then. 

“...Marianne?” 

She snapped out of her reverie. Claude eyed her worriedly. The others were beginning to leave. 

“Claude?”

“You seemed lost in thought for a moment, my friend,” he chuckled in an attempt to hide his concern. “Lunch has started so everyone’s going on ahead. Join us?”

She nodded, collecting herself. She attempted to shove those thoughts that plagued her aside in hopes to not slip up again. 

Walking beside Claude, the two made their way to the Mess Hall. Marianne moved blankly forward before Claude laid a hand on her shoulder. 

“Hey. If anything’s up, you’ll tell us, right?”

He smiled for her, earnestly. 

Where would she even begin with the problems that hung over her? How would she convey to them the complex feelings and problems she had concerning an increasingly despondent Prince?

“Of course, Claude. I appreciate you looking out for us.”

* * *

**_10:46 p.m. on the 15th day of the Pegasus Moon, 1180_ **

The sound of a blade’s tip being dragged along a wooden surface permeated the dark dorm room. The pointed end of a dagger scratched lazily across his desk etching nondescript marks onto it. Dimitri continued his pattern, his eyes blankly focused on nothing as his mind ran amok.

Two weeks. 

Two weeks since the Sealed Forest. Two weeks until the ceremony at the Holy Tomb.

Two weeks since he had ripped open one of those heinous murderers. Two weeks of his classmates watching his every move.

Two weeks of trudging through his inane classes. Two more weeks of hearing their harrowing cries.

A masked emperor flashed in the vision of his mind’s eye, its red and white masquerade haunting him. He gritted his teeth fiercely as the force of the dagger on his desk left deep impressions on its surface.

Two weeks. 

Two weeks since his professor had acquired his vengeance. Two weeks until his vengeance escapes him yet again until the next two weeks where he fails and fails until the next two weeks until-

Dimitri growled and slammed the dagger into the desk, the blade plunging itself into the wood to the hilt. 

He grabbed his head, gasping for air. His labored breathing was the only noise, and it consumed his senses. 

Dimitri was breaking. There was no avoiding it. Cold sweat dripped down his temple, and he quickly wiped it away with his shirt as he attempted to wrangle with the fact that his facade was failing. Dedue shadowed over him like a hawk, Ingrid and Sylvain badgered him constantly with benign yet useless help, and Felix watched with ever-growing disgust. 

How much longer would he hold? The Flame Emperor taunted his every thought, his object of vengeance so near yet ever evasive. He just needed until then. 

He needed to survive until the moment he plunged his spear deep into that monster’s heart. 

A meek knocking sound rapped on his door. He grimaced in annoyance for his late-night musings were not late enough. He cleaned himself up hastily and lit a lamp before swinging the door wide open.

“Dedue, how many times-”

His scolding was cut short as his words did not reach his guardian protector, but an unassuming, blue-haired girl. She looked at him in surprise, the steam and warmth of the teacup she held between them doing nothing to hide his own shock. 

“Um… Marianne?”

“Uh... hi.”

The two silently stared at each other. Dimitri leaned forward to check the halls, the deserted corridor having no one to bear witness to this awkwardness. Looking back to her, Marianne’s eyes darted sporadically to him, to the teacup, and to the floor suggesting that she was just as hesitant as he was. 

With his previous anger being disarmed, he wordlessly stepped aside and invited her inside. She nodded gratefully and shuffled into his room with haste.

He shut the door to his quarters and turned his attention back to his surprise guest. He observed Marianne step around his room, every movement made hesitantly as if a miscalculation would bring utter destruction. Dimitri ushered her to the foot of his bed where he allowed her to sit. He grabbed his chair from his desk and placed it near where he could sit in front of her.

Unfortunately, the seating did nothing to help spur conversation. Dimitri had been avoiding Marianne when possible since the night she was harassed for her own sake, only speaking words in passing on a handful of occasions, yet here she was in his room with no excuses or escapes to be made. 

It hurt his heart to do so in all honesty. He missed her companionship, but he also knew that it was an unfair situation to place upon her. It was different than shooing away Dedue or his childhood friends. At least they understood in some capacity. Marianne had no such intimate knowledge. She was probably confused and hurt. 

“It’s late,” he finally started. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“I know,” she replied quickly. “Forgive me for intruding on such short notice.”

“It’s no hassle. I was expecting it to be Dedue making an extra round. He didn’t put you up to this, did you?” He spoke in a mild joking manner in hopes of bringing levity, but it only seemed to cause her panic as she shook her head.

“No, I came here on my own accord. Just me.” She sat there patiently and nervously, her stoicism slightly betrayed by occasional jitters. 

“I see… Is something on your mind, then?” He worried that she had come to scorn him for his behavior towards her these last few weeks, a silly thought he discarded reminding himself of her gentle nature.

“It’s been a while since we last spoke,” she said. “I hope this is fine.” Her permission to speak to him set off a pang within his chest, a guilty feeling for making her think his actions were her faults. 

“Of course. Always.” His hand roamed over his face and through his hair, a tired sigh leaving him. “I’m sorry for treating you so poorly lately. I’ve been a bad friend.”

“I… forgive you. Things have been rather hectic. I don’t blame you.” He nodded, feeling grateful and unworthy of Marianne’s forgiveness. Her reassurance did lift some weight off his shoulders, thankfully.

“Is there something in particular that brings you here?” he asked her. “I don’t mind, but I would have thought you’d be asleep at this hour.”

“Mm. I came back late from the stable,” she explained. “And… I heard you.” 

Her gaze drifted past him and to the knife sticking prominently from the desk. He averted his gaze in embarrassment and guilt, no possible reasoning that could explain what she’d witnessed. 

“I worry about you, Dimitri,” she whispered to him. The genuineness of her tone struck deep into him and had him pursing his lips.

“There’s nothing to worry about, my friend,” he muttered, a tried rehearsed excuse that convinced no one. “I don’t know what the others have been telling you, but I can assure you that-”

“No one has said anything to me. Your appearance tells me enough.”

Interrupted and thoroughly resigned, he leaned forward in his seat and caught his face between his palms. He peered up, Marianne’s ashen eyes patiently watching him with kindness too thoughtful to be spent on someone like himself. 

“I do not know what to say,” he confessed. “I am tired. That’s it.”

He retreated to the confines of his hands, the prince hiding behind them exhaustedly. He waited for some retort or disagreement. Though wordless, he instead felt a warmth inch closer to him. Dimitri found Marianne offering him the cup of tea, the hot liquid heating his face. He reluctantly accepted and stared down at the cup letting the steam cloud his face.

“It’s chamomile,” she said. “You told me it was your favorite one time. It helps with sleep.” She gestured to him to drink.

“You brewed this surprisingly quick,” he mentioned offhandedly. He looked through the rising gray vapors to see a ghost of a bashful smile on her. 

“I may have planned on visiting tonight before hearing from you,” she clarified.

An amused utterance escaped him. He missed her presence more than he had imagined. Though feeling apathetically weary, he raised the cup to his lips if only to repay her concern for him.

He let the familiar taste of the chamomile coat his mouth, the hot brew seemingly entering his body and spreading an encompassing warmth that slowly spread from his chest to his entire being. For the precious few seconds he spent sipping the tea, he let himself go, relax, and forget. It was a sensation that had eluded him lately, and its reappearance made him shudder contentedly. When he drew away from the cup, he exhaled forcefully, his jaw shivering slightly with the sigh.

Dimitri was leaning back in his seat, his head pointing upward, his eyes closed. As quickly as it had come, the feeling of comfort began to wane, and he sat still in hopes of keeping it close to him for as long as possible. 

Marianne silently began to retrieve the empty cup from his hands. As if on instinct, he softly wrapped his hands around her own when they drew near, the action startling the girl. Dimitri remained still, his body in the same position it had been since he had finished. He could not see, but he could feel the startled tension leave Marianne’s hands. Slowly, she pulled away with the cup, the absence of her feeling bringing him dismay. He heard the clink of the cup being set on the floor, the smoothing of her dress with her hands. To his surprise, they found themselves returning to his own, Marianne cautiously intertwining her fingers with his own. He grabbed them, brought them together, and trembled slightly as her thumb caressed the top of his knuckles.

They were soft. Smaller than his. They moved with an affectionate feeling. 

They were impossibly perfect to him, and he despaired when he accepted the realization that no matter what, they were not meant to be his.

“Why do you do this?” he breathed, fearing that anything louder would break this fragile bubble.

“I think you are in need of it.”

“In need, maybe, but undeserving.”

She didn’t respond, continuing to thumb the surface of his hands. 

“You are better off spending this time with someone else,” he told her.

“I think… I’m spending my time quite nicely.”

The corners of his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth tightening along with his heart. 

“How can you have such confidence in me?” he whispered, his voice threatening break.

“I only believe in you as you believed in me,” she answered as if it was simply a law that governed life. 

“You’re safer away from me,” he begged, his voice scratching. “You deserve more than this.”

Against every fiber of his being fighting against him, he pulled his hands away. They already began to shiver from the missing heat that seemed to perfectly fit his own. Finally looking down and opening his eyes, Marianne sat there, teary-eyed. The sight made him acutely aware of his own tears welling up within him.

He was a mess. A catastrophe he had so carefully worked to hide for months that had him bursting at the seams. Even now, the voices of ghosts long passed filled his mind, always demanding his attention. He was too gone, too monstrous. He watched Marianne stand to leave, the symbol of whatever possible future reserved for a boy who died in the fires four years ago. 

He waited for her to depart, an unspoken agreement that tonight had shifted something between them that they could not reverse.

Instead, she stepped closer to him, moving closer until she towered over his defeated form. He looked up, watery gray eyes piercing into him. A hand set itself upon his shoulder.

“Forgive me, Dimitri, but I will be there for you. Whether you want me to or not.”

Her hands traced down the length of his shoulder, his arm, into his hand before they left completely. He did not watch her go, did not watch his door shut.

His chest swelled and ached rapidly. 

Her faith in him sparked both joy and dread. 

Joy that someone believed he was more than the monster he might be. 

Dread that came from the fact that he may have just doomed another one he loved. 

* * *

**_3:23 p.m. on the 29th day of the Pegasus Moon, 1180_ **

What better words could there be to describe the ceremony at the Holy Tomb other than utter disaster?

Marianne fired a spearing lightning bolt that crashed into a unit of enemy soldiers, scattering the forces. Her eyes roamed hurriedly over the tomb-turned-battlefield for anything that demanded her attention.

Like many times before, there were too many questions. How could a holy event be interrupted by such barbarity? What brought them face-to-face with the Imperial Army and demonic beasts? 

An arrow whizzed past her head, the archer in the distance subsequently being dispatched by Sylvain and Felix.

Right. No time for questions.

A foot soldier roared from behind her. She turned frantically to find the man charging her, but the distance was too great.

“ _I’m sorry,”_ she said under her breath as a spell of ice lanced through the air and embedded itself within the man, dropping him dead.

The majority of the Imperial forces have been dealt with and the demonic beasts along with them. Several units remained, her and her classmates finishing off what was left. As far as they were aware, the Crest Stones had been safely recovered as well. 

Even with their success, winning never felt like a victory when she had to wade through the corpses littering the tomb.

She regrouped with most of her classmates, no immediate enemies in sight. They were recuperating, collecting themselves from the strain of battle. She immediately began working on any injuries that required attention.

“Well, this is a goddamn mess,” Sylvain said bitterly. “I swear nothing ever goes right for us.”

“You think we’d be able to go one month without stumbling into something,” Annette muttered. “I mean, desecration and grave robbing? Seriously?” She winced as Mercedes applied medicinal balm to one of her wounds.

Marianne’s hands shone brightly over a laceration on Ashe’s arm, the cut shutting itself.

“It’s one battle into another,” the archer said. “Except this time the Imperial Army is involved.” 

Felix stood at the outskirts of their group watching for any enemies. “Hmph. Imperial Army, demonic beasts, Flame Emperor… doesn’t matter. Just worry about staying alive and sort the details out later.”

They wallowed in their uncertainty, taking Felix’s reminder to heart.

Clattering armor and footsteps approached the group from behind. They all sprang into stance only to relax at the sight of Ingrid and Dedue. Ingrid gave them all a look over. 

“The Archbishop is safe and secure, for now,” she told them. “It seems that any enemies left here have been dealt with.” 

The sitrep was welcome, allowing most of them to drop their guard. Marianne breathed heavily as the stress of battle caught up to her. 

Dedue reevaluated the group before worry set into his features. “Where is His Highness? The Professor?”

“The boar charged ahead once he got sight of the Flame Emperor,” Felix said. “The Professor had no choice but to chase after him.” 

“Then we must hurry,” Dedue said, wasting no time. “The sounds of clashing steel are still in the air. They may be in danger.”

The fact had them perking up instantly as they marched forward in search of their leaders.

Marianne nervously stepped into line, worries flooding her mind. Dimitri had gone into a rage again and dived straight into the heart of the enemy. Fighting skills be damned, she couldn’t save what she couldn’t see. The Professor may be with him, but two versus an army was unfathomable. 

_I’ll be there for you,_ she repeated to herself, to Dimitri. 

Mercedes stalked up beside her and gave her a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, Marianne. They’ll be fine.”

Under her motherly eyes, Marianne let herself believe so.

They made their way through the tomb, past the bodies of men and monsters. Their wounds suggested that the bloody path had been the work of Dimitri and the Professor. Felix headed the charge before suddenly stopping them in their tracks.

“There,” he called out. 

In the distance, the figures of the Professor, the Prince, and the Flame Emperor surrounded by guards came into view. They drew closer only to slow once again.

The Flame Emperor had been unmasked. 

“Holy…” Sylvain rubbed his eyes and looked again, mirroring their astonishment. “Is that… _Edelgard?_ ”

Marianne wished for it to be untrue, but she gasped as the sharp eyes of the Black Eagles’ leader became clear as day, tufts of her silver locks peeking out from her helmet. Their very own classmate stood before them in the garb of the enemy. 

The Blue Lions were frozen to their spots, too stunned to act. Marianne diverted her attention to Dimitri and the Professor for any sort of guidance. 

Byleth looked equally perplexed but made no order or movements. He kept his holy sword pointed at his supposed student. The prince on the other hand… 

_Dimitri…_

The boy’s head was aimed at the ground. His shoulders shook. To everyone in attendance, the results of this standstill were entirely predicated on Dimitri’s reaction. Marianne feared that this was his breaking point. This was what would defeat the noble prince, bring him to his knees, and end his will.

She was wrong.

She was so _terribly_ wrong.

A maniacal cackling began to swell, a lowly thing that erupted into a full-blown, demented laugh. Marianne couldn’t believe what she saw when she witnessed Dimitri throw his head up, the twisted, chilling laughter emanating from him. They all recoiled viscerally at the sight and sound.

 _“Is this some kind of twisted joke?!”_ the prince yelled, the roar reverberating off the sacred walls. 

Marianne began to panic. The shattering of the Emperor’s mask beneath Dimitri’s boot did nothing to dissuade the class’ terror as the boy marched towards Edelgard. 

“I’ve been looking for you…” Dimitri’s voice rumbled, hate and loathing mixing with apparent glee. “I will take that head from your shoulders… _and hang it from the gates of Enbarr!”_

His war cry broke the stalemate, the stillness, the image of their royal prince.

Marianne and the rest watched with abject horror as he charged with reckless abandon, his lance cutting through four men in one swing. He gruesomely tore away at oncoming guards with his bare hands all with a wild grin on his face. 

The rest of the horrific event unfolding before her became a buzz and blur in the foreground, her mind taking her away and shielding her.

Felix’s warnings, the bloodlust, the suffering, Dimitri’s own apprehension had finally come together to complete the puzzle of Faerghus’ prince.

* * *

Who was Dimitri, to her? Who did she meet?

Memories of meeting a bright young man that seemed fascinated with her at every turn flashed brilliantly in her mind. Their initial disagreement, his persistence, their friendship, their camaraderie, their dance, all their time alone spent together culminating in whatever relationship had blossomed between them… 

She observed with widening eyes the same young man grab a soldier by his skull and crush it within his hands, blood, and viscera covering his face. 

This is who she had met. 

* * *

The Archbishop’s rueful scorn chased after Edelgard long after she had disappeared. Edelgard’s head was now a target, and the goddess would have it.

As everything began to come back to her, Marianne saw her classmates straightening up, preparing for something. A sharp intake of breath filled her as Dimitri began moving towards them, to the exit.

He dragged his bloodied lance on the floor, the unnerving noise leaving a literal trail of death. The boy seemed to sway from side to side with every step, his shoulders lax and his dead eyes staring ahead.

Dedue took a step towards his master only to be shoved away without much effort. 

The Blue Lions watched their future king with dread come near them. They all said nothing, only meekly stepping aside when he did not stop. Even Felix could only step aside, fear and disgust filling his face.

His somber walk eventually came to her. Her eyes were wide, and she shuddered as Dimitri seemed to begrudgingly come to a stop as she refused to move from his path. 

Everything about his face was blank and absent. He looked down at her, his blue eyes reduced to a dull shade that showed no recognition of who she was. His face was slack, the splattered blood covering it only adding to the macabre sight. 

He stared her down silently. She struggled to stay upright, to not tremble and crumble under him.

“Marianne,” someone called out. “Marianne. Step away from him.”

She didn’t. She couldn’t.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out. She grasped his right hand, the same one that had only moments ago been the tool of ghastly killings. Ignoring the blood and the bits of matter that covered his slick hand, she squeezed it tightly.

For a moment, signs of life emerged from the boy. His eyes flared with remembrance as they seemed to truly see who she was. His grip on her hand tightened.

“Dimitri…” 

Against her hopes, the dullness returned to his eyes once more. Yet with subdued movement, he brought their joined hands to his face. He stared at their union with an almost childlike curiosity and bewilderment.

Despite it all, he let go, her now-bloodied hand falling limply to her side. 

She did not resist when he gently pushed her away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to share this for why there was such a long wait:
> 
> "I’m sorry for such a long wait. Life has been a rollercoaster since last time. Quarantine has been demotivating and I’ve had to deal with hurricanes and storms over the summer, and most recently just had one a couple days ago that left me without power for awhile. Coupled with college classes, this fic just hasn’t had priority lately and I apologize. Definitely won’t be left incomplete though!"
> 
> I really am sorry for such a long gap, especially since I've never had one like that before. Life has just been hectic.
> 
> On another note, though, we are almost done with the Academy phase of this story, and therefore this fic. I don't think I've ever shared but the general roadmap was to have this be a four part series which would consist of 
> 
> Academy Phase (this fic) -> One single chapter interlude over the 5 year gap -> War Phase -> One single chapter epilogue
> 
> So yeah, that's the dream and was definitely more than I had ever anticipated but life comes at ya fast. Who knows if that'll happen but hey.
> 
> Thanks again for those who enjoy, and I apologize again for those who are invested.


	16. Lone Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One final moment

Every day of the month had been fraught with unending work. There had been no time to even ponder over the events in the Holy Tomb before the Monastery was put to work. 

War was on the horizon, and it rode towards them.

The Empire had already sent their declaration of war on the day of their visit to the Tomb, spearheaded by their new emperor, Edelgard von Hresvelg. The might of the Empire was behind her, and whatever peace their land once knew was shattered in just a day, a continent-wide spanning conflict with Garreg Mach in the middle.

Marianne was there with the rest of the students when the faculty solemnly consulted them. What they asked of them was morbidly succinct: defend the Monastery against the Empire, or flee with their lives while they had the chance. 

Despite her doubts, her fears wrestling for control of her body to take her far and away, to run like she always had, Marianne chose to remain. The rest of her friends were no different. 

It had been a grueling two weeks of preparation, of letter writing, of praying. Her father begged for her return, and she wrote him a simple response. She would stay. Though she arrived as Marianne von Edmund, a pitiful, cursed student of the Alliance, she remained now as a comrade-in-arms for the people that believed in her. Maybe she could never change what she was, and maybe she was an insignificant pebble compared to the barrelling boulder that was the Empire, but she had to stay. 

“Can we win?” she muttered one day when she could barely contain the terror in her that threatened to burst out. “Can we really defeat someone who is willing to turn their back on the world just to uphold their own beliefs?” she asked the Professor, the proverbial anchor that sparked inspiration in all of them. “I've spent my whole life running in fear, and now… I…”

“We can’t win if you run,” he told her.

 _We_. That’s right. It was more than just her.

It was for Claude, for Hilda, for the Golden Deer.

For the Blue Lions and the Professor that had taken her in.

For him.

“You're right. It's time to stop running. I'll fight with everything I've got.”

* * *

**_2:34 p.m. on the 21st day of the Lone Moon, 1180_ **

Marianne exhaled sharply, the crate of weapons she plopped down clattering loudly. Annette and Hilda did the same, their supplies joining hers and the rest of the military equipment that filled the equipment room. 

“I feel like we’ve been doing this forever,” Hilda said as she straightened her hair. “‘Stack this, check that, fix these.’ And there’s still more! My delicate self was never built for this.”

“Don’t think like that Hilda! Think of what you’ve accomplished instead of what you’ve yet to accomplish!” Annette’s chipper attitude, however, was strained, the girl resting against the wall. “But yeah. There’s a lot left isn’t there?”

Marianne let the two girls lament. It’s not like she felt any differently, after all.

“It really took a damn war to get you this active, Hilda, and you’re still thinking of slacking? Honestly…” The sarcastic tone signaled Claude’s appearance, his smile masking the grave look that shadowed his eyes.

“War is pushing it, don’t you think?” Hilda replied. “It’s not like the Empire has done anything yet except declare it.”

“Funny you mention that,” Claude murmured. Smile and sarcasm gone, his voice turned serious. “It seems the Knights finally have whereabouts on what the Empire’s up to. It seems Edelgard and the main army will be bearing down upon us in two weeks' time.”

Her blood grew cold, the realization settling within them. 

Annette nearly whined in her own outburst. “Two weeks?! It’s taken us two weeks to get the Monastery supplies for preparing defenses, and you’re saying we only have another two left to finish? That’s barely enough time!”

“Afraid so,” the house leader sighed. He ran a hand through his hair. “If you want to save your hide and run, now would be the time to consider it.”

Even with their unscrupulous timeframe, the three girls didn’t seem to budge.

“Tempting offer, but I’m already stuck here,” Hilda said candidly. “Besides, it’d be a bad look if it was just me.”

“Yeah! We’re already committed! We didn’t choose to stay just to leave when things got scary!” Annette cheered. Marianne nodded along with them. For what it was worth, their courage sparked a laugh from the sly Deer leader.

“Look at you all. Such courageous, _stupid,_ bravado. Who would trust anyone else?”

“Speaking of trust,” Hilda interrupted, “what about the rest of the Black Eagles? I’m not a master general, but having literal Imperial nobles in our forces seems like a security risk.”

“I think we’ll be okay,” Marianne answered quietly to their surprise. “I’ve run into them once or twice. They… don’t seem as enthusiastic about this war, just like us.”

She couldn’t forget the looks on the faces of the Black Eagles when the news broke. A mix of horror, conflict, and doubt that one would not expect from the Empire’s supposed allies. 

“Marianne’s got a point,” Claude said. “It’s mostly loyalty to Teach and the rest of us that keeps them here, so they aren’t really different from us. I think most of them weren’t aware of Edelgard’s grand scheme either, so sudden betrayal and war have them hesitant. They might not fight against their own soldiers, but I think it’s safe to say they’re harmless to us, too.” The boy shrugged, a tired noise filled with irritation and defeat. “To think Edelgard had this planned the entire time we were here. We were distracted with school while she was planning a whole coup. Impressive, if not hurtful. It also blows my reputation out of the water.”

Hilda seemed to scoff in contempt. “I told you, Claude, I never did feel like something was right with that girl! Sure, mostly I was just scared of her, but now I have a good reason! Oh, and the Prince too! Really, if you need a people reader in your future, then-”

“Hilda.”

“-I’m the- what?” Hilda turned to find Marianne and Annette turned away, the mention of the remaining leader disheartening them. “Oh. Um. Sorry.”

A chilled silence blanketed their shared bubble. Claude awkwardly cleared his throat.

“How is the Prince? Is he… okay?”

“Okay is… a word,” Annette said half-heartedly. “Sometimes he’s fine. Sometimes he’s not. Most of the time he’s… gone.”

“Gone? Where does he go?”

“Nowhere,” Annette clarified. “It’s just that he seems like he’s somewhere else. Mentally.” She sighs worriedly, a concerned look on her face. “Dedue takes care of him apparently, but he doesn’t elaborate. And with the war preparations, none of us have the time to do much else. And you guys know everyone else doesn’t approach him.”

“Everyone, huh?” Claude said with a raised brow. Marianne made sure her eyes avoided his.

“Basically,” Annette answered. “I don’t know what we can do. The Professor says to focus on the war efforts for now, but… it’s worrying.”

Marianne shared Annette’s sentiments, both the one’s spoken aloud and not. Marianne knows that Annette and the others were just as terror-stricken as her. That what boiled over had turned the dynamic between Prince and colleagues on its head. That maybe there isn’t anything that could be done.

The room had gone quiet now. Claude rubbed his chin, a thoughtful look on his face. Seeing that nothing else was to be said, he looked back over his shoulder to the outside. 

“Hey, Hilda, Annette. Looks like another shipment is out there. Can you two get started on that? I’ll help Marianne sort things out here.”

Hilda rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Man, I thought we had at least five more minutes.” The pink-haired noble was out the door, Annette on her heels. With their exit, Claude silently shut the door a bit, leaving it only slightly ajar.

Marianne was already privy to what Claude wanted, yet she silently arranged the weapons all the same. The young man settled beside her, Claude whistling nonchalantly. 

“Wartime been treating you fine?” he asked frankly. 

“I don’t think there’s a positive answer to that,” she humored him.

“No, I suppose there isn’t. I’m happy to see you stayed, Marianne. I heard the Margrave had a carriage halfway here to retrieve you.”

“I can’t leave. Not with everyone else laying their own lives on the line. I’ll help however I can.”

“I see.” He chuckled softly. “Look at you, Marianne. I don’t think I would’ve expected that from the same girl nearly a year ago. This place really changed you, huh?”

“I suppose so.”

Marianne stacked the spears side-by-side on the weapon rack. Claude did the same with the swords, the two working diligently. She placed the last lance in its spot before letting her arms fall limply to her side. 

“What is it you wanted to ask me, Claude?”

The boy's hands stilled. “You know, I liked it better when you guys couldn’t decipher my tells.” He dusted off a shield before tossing it aside. “Annette said no one’s been entering the Lion’s den. His Highness has been left alone for the most part.”

“She did…”

“Yeah. Personally, I was a bit blindsided like everyone else by the man’s sudden heel turn. Lots of people leave him be, myself included. Especially with the Empire staring down on us.”

Marianne frowned disappointedly finding the boy’s tone about the Prince disquieting. “You speak as if he is not our friend,” she said quietly. Her tentativeness produced a sigh from the boy. Claude seemed to let the pretense of an amicable conversation drop.

“He and I were more acquaintances. That’s the reasonable expectation of two future rulers,” he admitted. “It’s also reasonable to keep tabs on them, you know. I’d be more comfortable when I’m dealing with what I know. And I’m going to be honest, Marianne, that man is one giant question mark to me right now.”

“What are you trying to say?” she finally asked, cutting to the root of the point. Claude gave her an empathetic look.

“Marianne, I don’t know enough about what happened in the Holy Tomb, nor do I know enough about what turns the Prince’s gears and makes him the way he is, but I’ve heard and seen enough to know that there’s danger in the midst. Call me harsh, but I don’t care enough about the rest of the Blue Lions to pick their brain on where their loyalties lie, but I do for you.”

She felt her hands clenched tightly at her side as he continued to speak, her gaze averted as she hid her eyes beneath the shade of her locks because speaking of Dimitri as if he were an enemy hurt her heart. It hurt doubly so when she knew the cause for concern was true, that Dimitri may be a danger after all this time, that even she had been reluctant to see him since that day.

“Everyone talks like he is some wanton force,” she said. “As if he is some sort of…”

_Monster._

**_Beast._ **

Claude took notice of her dour mood, sidling up beside her. 

“I know you and Dimitri had some sort of connection,” he said. “There was always something about you two since those days when you first met. He was in a rare group of people that seemed capable of getting you out of your shell on occasion.”

She laughed silently, mirthlessly.

“And how do you know that?” she chanced to ask. He responded by tapping his temple and bringing attention to the faded amusement in his eyes.

“I said I’d always be watching out for one of my own, remember?” he answered. 

Marianne let the truth of Claude’s observations sink into her. How long had it been since she and the Prince met upon chance in the library, since that night near the pond where the fish hooks had scratched his face and she healed it for him? How far back was it when she mustered up her lacking courage to finally look him in the eyes and be shocked to see the same clouded pain that she found in her own from her mirror of those early mornings? How quickly those weeks have turned into months, those months into a year. So much time for the Kingdom’s future to spend on a lowly, cursed Alliance girl. 

Claude, seemingly sensing her reminiscing, sighed. “I know he’s your friend. An _actual_ friend. But do you _know_ what you’re doing, Marianne? What you might be getting into?”

The question had her stomach uneasy, her chest tight, her mind frantic because she knew that it wasn’t a question that she wanted to answer.

What _was_ she doing? Why hold hope for someone that you have no ties to? Not like the other Kingdom students, at least. They were bound by loyalty to their king. She was bound by unfounded hope to a friend that may not have been real. 

A vortex of thoughts swirled in her mind in those few seconds. She thought back to one of their first conversations, remembering how she had pleaded for him to stay away for his sake. She remembers how he called her a lucky charm. She breathed in shakily at the cold, dreadful idea that maybe she really had cursed him. That all that time he had spent with her had truly been his undoing and that she was responsible for this collapse.

Those thoughts were swept away, a clear mental image of the Prince himself being the first to tell her that she was wrong.

Those were the thoughts that eased her worries, that guided her through the year. Vivid thoughts of her and him in their shared moments. How he always seemed to be intrigued by her for whatever reason, and how she always prayed that it would not be the death of him. He gave her patience while she could only give him time, and that always seemed to be enough for him. She had grown, there was no doubt, and he was involved since the beginning. 

Thoughts of shared meals, quiet prayer time, aimless conversations, a tower dance, and those precious silent moments where they did nothing together but sit and enjoy another’s presence because sometimes that’s all they needed when the crises of the world fell upon them. 

All of these memories and more stemmed from the absurd thought that someone had understood her, rejected what she believed to be cursed to be when she can’t and still saw the person that she never knew lay within herself.

They realized that life, no matter how short, had more for Marianne von Edmund. 

“There’s a good man in there, Claude,” she told him, her voice strained by emotion. “I do not wish to believe that he is gone. He is still… my friend. And I will be there for him.”

* * *

~*~

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
~*~  
  


**_12:50 a.m. on the 30th day of the Lone Moon, 1180_ **

The Cathedral was deathly still. In a few mere hours, the Imperial forces would descend upon them and this quiet, brittle peace would be shattered by the chaos of war. Within the Cathedral, there were no lights, no activities, no noise. Just the stray beams of moonlight cast over the sullen silhouette of a boy perched in the front row pews. 

He was lost in his mind, the quiet utterances of some supposed conversation escaping his lips. Perhaps that was the reason he ignored the footsteps that carefully approached behind him, measured steps whose noise seemed to oscillate visibly in the frozen Cathedral. 

The footsteps belonging to a girl trailed slowly to the front. No words were exchanged when she sat beside the boy. He did not turn to see this visitor. He did not seem to care at all. He had others to speak to at the moment. Likewise, the girl clasped her hands together and shut her eyes wordlessly. Within moments, her lips moved inaudibly, her prayers being offered to the Goddess.

She had finished her prayers quite some time ago, yet remained all the same, her eyes aimed skyward at nothing in particular. The boy did nothing as he slipped between exhausted unconsciousness and conscious, single-minded focus. His head drooped slightly only to rise as he caught himself slipping. So tired, but so much more to think of. Whether it be the upcoming battle, the pleadings of the dead, or the face of that traitorous sister, they kept him awake. He could still think. 

“I prayed for you.”

It was a whisper that came from the girl’s lips and slowly expanded to the space around her before it reached him. It grasped his attention. For the first time that night, he turned to the whisperer with his blank face. Hers was equally expressionless, if not more wistful and plaintive. Her eyes were still pointed upwards.

“I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know what I can give you,” she whispered again. “I’m scared. For tomorrow. For everyone’s safety.”

He listened speechlessly, his mind emerging from its haze for a moment. 

“All of this is too much for me. I feel like I do not belong on the battlefield of war. But I have people to protect. Including you.”

She turned to him, and he saw the heavy sadness in her eyes that weighed her entire being down. But within it, there was indistinguishable care and warmth that was undoubtedly hers, and it was directed to him. He shook at the feeling, his vision shaking feebly, the throes of slumber and nightmares grasping at him. His voice was unstable but clear. 

“Marianne…” he mumbled, his eyes clearing up just enough to stare back at hers. “I beg of you… do not die tomorrow, please. I cannot see one more person I care for leave.” He narrowed his eyes, the aches and pains afflicting him. “I… I do not wish to see you, too.”

Pity and sorrow contorted her face, his request striking deep into her bones. For a moment, she pondered it. 

She often used to wish for death, welcomed it, even. 

For the first time in ages, that wish died instead.

“I won’t, Dimitri. I promise.”

She reached for his hand with her own and entwined them together. She moved closer beside him.

Whether placated by her response or by the surprising warmth of her hand, he finally let his shoulders sag and his body sway for the day. He leaned over and his head rested upon her own, his body quickly following suit as he succumbed to sleep. She let her surprise pass, her buzzing feelings fade, and her worries cease. Accepting her position, she let her mind drift away.

For one more night, they’ll feel safe in each other’s company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that the first part is done, some notes:
> 
> \- This is easily the longest thing I've ever written and I may have been too ambitious, but I literally started writing just for this saga piece thing so I don't intend to stop. I've learned a lot, and am still learning so I intend to use that to write better work. Maybe one day I'll touch up this piece but that's a looooooooong ways away. 
> 
> \- Came into this with a clear outline in mind and it was still a much more massive undertaking than I thought. The 5 year break interlude may not take long, but the War era part of this story will be a journey.
> 
> \- I *hated* the dating of every section. I thought it'd be nice at first but trying to setup arbitrary dates and times that made sense just seemed tedious and unnecessary. I feel like it was a restriction and not a helpful device, and I just got sick of it at the end. Next part will not have that unless I need it, and instead will just cover whatever span of time and events that seem to flow. War phase also doesn't lend itself to a "schedule" like an actual academy would have anyway. 
> 
> \- I haven't played 3H in a hot minute, but I'm getting the urge. A playthrough of Azure Moon will be good to refresh my memory and make things clearer for the next part.
> 
> \- Finally, lots of people have read this, more than I ever thought. That's crazy. Didn't expect that. I don't respond much but thank you to everyone who reads and enjoys, they are like fuel to my soul. My schedule is dumb and erratic, so I thank you for people that put up with that. 
> 
> And that wraps up part one. Thanks again for reading, wear your masks.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how this is going to go, but I've been wanting to do this since I've started. The plan is a story between Dimitri and Marianne throughout the events of the Blue Lions route. I plan on keeping it typically canon compliant with some stretching here and there. Hopefully there's some interest for this.


End file.
